Yesterday after writing about the drawing of my Grandmothers home I began to think about old homes. Remembering my Grandmothers place and my Great Grandfathers. I was quite familiar with both of these homes. Things were different back then though. There were rooms we just didn't go into as children. Grandma's bedroom for one. It was just a narrow little room right off the parlor. No door ,just a curtain across the opening. Oh, we peeked in there, as children will. She had a high bed nestled against the wall and a tall dresser at the end of the room. No window in there and so it was always a little dark. A bit of an intimidating room to us kids. There were three bedrooms upstairs. We seldom went up there for anything. It pretty much wasn't being used . We just never went up there as there was nothing to entertain us up there. Ten children were raised and slept in those rooms however. If the walls could talk I'm sure I would have heard many fascinating tales.
Great Grandfather had a large rambling home catty corner to my Grandmothers. Just a stone throws away was the saying. Gramp, as we called him, pretty much lived in the large old kitchen. That big old wood burning stove was his heat. He had a bed over in one corner. I remember him telling me, it is all the room I need. We seldom explored any further into that house. The ground floor I was somewhat familiar with but the upstairs I know nothing about. I was younger and have no memory of ever going up there. Off the kitchen there was a long hallway that lead to the front parlor. My Great Grandmother passed away in that parlor after a long illness. I didn't like going in there at all. The house always seemed dark and dusty. It was a place of mystery. Funny and odd looking objects lurked in the corners. I recall jars of old buttons sitting on a shelf. Gramp did have those old View Master viewers and hundreds of reels to go in them. That was the usual thing we played with while visiting. Seemed like he always had a pot of " samp " (hominy) on the back of the stove and would offer it to you. That, and crown Pilot crackers smeared with butter.
Grandmothers house is long gone, returned to the earth. Great Grandfathers home is still standing and the last I knew, occupied. I have several pictures of this home. One day I would like to go visit it. I wonder what it looks like now. I wonder if I would recognize any of the interior rooms.
I've always had an affinity for old homes. I just love the idea of their ages and the stories they hold. Old houses have character. Almost like a pair of shoes that are already broken in, comfortable. May not be the prettiest but definitely have charm. I especially like knowing the history of the place. That's part of the special feeling I get when in an older home.
These old homes are slowly going away. The new homes don't hold the same charm, nor are they constructed as sturdily as in years gone by. Houses too, are becoming a part of our throw away mentality. Well, I'm sure the Grandchildren of today will feel the same way as I do someday. They will reminisce about Grandmas house too. And time marches on.
Great Grandfather had a large rambling home catty corner to my Grandmothers. Just a stone throws away was the saying. Gramp, as we called him, pretty much lived in the large old kitchen. That big old wood burning stove was his heat. He had a bed over in one corner. I remember him telling me, it is all the room I need. We seldom explored any further into that house. The ground floor I was somewhat familiar with but the upstairs I know nothing about. I was younger and have no memory of ever going up there. Off the kitchen there was a long hallway that lead to the front parlor. My Great Grandmother passed away in that parlor after a long illness. I didn't like going in there at all. The house always seemed dark and dusty. It was a place of mystery. Funny and odd looking objects lurked in the corners. I recall jars of old buttons sitting on a shelf. Gramp did have those old View Master viewers and hundreds of reels to go in them. That was the usual thing we played with while visiting. Seemed like he always had a pot of " samp " (hominy) on the back of the stove and would offer it to you. That, and crown Pilot crackers smeared with butter.
Grandmothers house is long gone, returned to the earth. Great Grandfathers home is still standing and the last I knew, occupied. I have several pictures of this home. One day I would like to go visit it. I wonder what it looks like now. I wonder if I would recognize any of the interior rooms.
I've always had an affinity for old homes. I just love the idea of their ages and the stories they hold. Old houses have character. Almost like a pair of shoes that are already broken in, comfortable. May not be the prettiest but definitely have charm. I especially like knowing the history of the place. That's part of the special feeling I get when in an older home.
These old homes are slowly going away. The new homes don't hold the same charm, nor are they constructed as sturdily as in years gone by. Houses too, are becoming a part of our throw away mentality. Well, I'm sure the Grandchildren of today will feel the same way as I do someday. They will reminisce about Grandmas house too. And time marches on.
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