It's a comfort

  A cedar shingled house transports me back home every time I see one. My grandparents both lived in houses like that. My own childhood home was covered with those asbestos shingles that were so popular in the 50's. Still, it is those cedar shingles that hold that magic for me. The older they get, the better they look. Whether they get darker with age or get bleached almost grey makes no difference to me, both are as familiar as my own hands. Both give me that warmth, the warmth of a home.

 I love log cabins, I used to dream about owning one tucked away in the woods somewhere. A brook, creek, river or pond would be close by. Today though, I think about owning a cedar shingled house. It's two stories with a porch across the front, one side may be covered in ivy. The standard six over six double hung windows painted bright white in contrast. A brick chimney extends from the peak of that roof. This house would also be in the woods or possibly tucked away in a cul de sac. It will look old, with a clothes yard off to the side. A wood pile sits close to the back door, an ax stuck in the chopping block. The drive is dirt, just two ruts with a grass strip in the center. 

 I notice these homes wherever I go. I know of several in the area and admire them. They are not pristine examples, quite the contrary. Those homes are lived in, and I imagine filled with love, and stories of love and loss. Houses that have stood against time, weather and misfortune. They are houses with a soul. That is my thinking. Home Sweet Home. That house memorialized in song sits on Main Street in the town I grew up in. It is a cedar shingled salt box style home. That style was developed to avoid paying an additional tax for having a two story home. It was designed as a deceit. The cedar shingles were used out of necessity and availability. They are also durable, cedar doesn't rot. More commonly called shaker shingles these days, they are quite expensive. Rather ironic to me as only the common folks had them on their homes when I was young. I figured they were the cheap stuff. And they were at the time, today that resource is becoming scarce. 

 As a man that loves tools I have quite a few. I do have some specialized ones, designed for a specific job or purpose. I don't have a shingling hatchet, however. My grandmother had one and my great grandfather. I remember them well. As a kid I used them to make some kindling wood for both of them. I wasn't allowed to use the ax, practice with that hatchet first. How many would recognize that tool for what it is? 

 Strange the things that evoke emotions sometimes. Cedar shingles, the smell of salt air or a particular word or phrase. Those little things, sitting around my home that I call knick-knacks, do that repeatedly. It's the reason I keep them around. Objects that hold emotions have a soul. That is what we feel when that connection is made. Call it love, contentment or possibly reassurance, it's always a comfort.