~This Old House~
a story built from a house
One early morning while walking past this house I saw an elderly woman bent over some plants on the side of her house. More than likely she was weeding the area as weeds grow more readily than most other plants in Phar Lepht. But it was her home that struck me. In part the 'bones' of the house... those structural details, the windows, the outline of the old fireplace and that front porch. The porch faces south and the heavy overhang of the roof provides welcome shade in the heat of the high Chihuahuan Desert summers, the supports so massive as to dare anyone to mess with the shady porch.a story built from a house
The old woman was a reflection of her home. Not unusual in and of itself, but given the vibes this house put out, one couldn't help but see the similarities between the aging owner and her aging home, with peeling walls and the yard overrun with the original plantings and the volunteers that the winds blew in from seed, and the soil so desperately in need of nutrients.
Upon entering the front door one enters the living room with that fireplace on the right side, probably has not had a fire burning in it for decades, not unlike the woman who resides there... she more than likely has not had her fires burning for decades either, her husband having passed years ago from maybe an injury that left him immobile and unhappy, his friends he once laughed and drank a few drinks with at the local bar not far from his place of employment, were since retired and seldom kept in touch with each other. He smoked heavily, having had the time to do so while sitting in his worn but comfortable overstuffed brown chair that had threadbare arms.
To the left was the master bedroom. A loneliness prevailed there and has for many, many years, with some photos in old wooden frames reminded the woman of good times now passed and never to recur. Photos of her three kids, only a few years apart in age from each other, their smiling faces reflecting the happy environment they grew up in, mostly in this house that once had freshly painted walls and beautiful flowers growing in the beds that stretched around the house. The oldest son was responsible every Saturday morning for mowing the yards, both front and back, before Mom fixed breakfast for the family.
Her husband had Saturday's off from work unless there was an emergency and he was the first to be called. Having been there the longest didn't necessarily give him any special entitlements when there was the occasional emergency to come in and take care of things. He didn't mind. This job is what paid for this house that his wife and him found one day driving around the neighborhood some 60+ years ago... a neighborhood that was on the edge of the growth of town... the suburbs of the day.
It wasn't easy to get together the down payment, but they loved being on the corner. No next door neighbors to contend with, and the street next to them was normally very quiet in those days. They only had the one kid back then, and momma was pregnant with number two. The house had only 2 bedrooms, which was pretty much the norm back then, unless the home buyer had a very good paying job that afforded them a 3 bedroom home.
All these memories locked up in the sole survivor of the house and every paint peel, every crack in the wall and ceiling is reflected in the woman's skin as time marches on. The clothes she now wears are quite likely the same clothes she wore 15 years ago, as she was very adept at sewing up tears and loose seams. After all these clothes were what she wore around the house doing the little chores she was able to perform. She had her special dress that her daughter bought her for Christmas, 2004, which she seldom had a need to wear but still looked good on her when that special moment came by.
She still loves this house because this house is not just brick and mortar. No... this is memory, lots of memories that span over six decades and hopefully another one or two if she has the health to keep this place going. Her children, only two left as the middle aged boy died in an auto accident the very day of his high school graduation... a sad and troubled time for the family.
But she knew life must go on and the old lady lives up to that knowledge and here she is in September 2009, still managing the best she can to keep her home and her memories that surrounds her as intact as she can. One can smell the age and the memories in the rooms, as you walk around looking at the various items spread out on tables and shelves - the souvenirs, geegaws and gifts from the years gone by. A plate from Niagara Falls for their 30th anniversary held a treasured spot on the mantle of the fireplace, and judging by the amount of accumulated dust, this little memento had not been moved for quite a long time.
The woman arose early every morning, before sunrise to fix her first cup of coffee... Folgers in the can, just like when her and her husband had their coffee together before anything else was done for the day. "Good to the last drop" she always remembered her husband comment right after swallowing the last of the first cup. Her smile never changed from that time, like the structure of her house, it held up well.
She does worry at times what will happen to her home once she passes away. Her two kids live far away from here and show little interest in the old place. She can't really blame them.. it's old and in need of repair and the cost of doing that is not a reality for either of her kids. Times are tough and just might be tougher before they get better, she thinks to herself. She had her fair share of tough times and it looks like her kids will have theirs, too. She would like to see somebody take over the house with the same love her and her husband. That would be the ideal. But nowadays there are so many houses on the market, and most of them are relatively new in comparison to this place. But this place, like others on the block, are still standing, built solid to withstand the extremes of the weather, those wild winds in the spring and the cold winters that have come to these parts many a time, and, of course, that south-facing porch with those massive columns still holding strong the overhang to protect the porch sitters from the scorching midday summer sun.
cecil
27 September 2009
Picture of the Week:
Rubble Pile
[photo: Cecil]
Our neighborhood is on the eastern foothills of the Franklin Mountains and consequently the terrain is very rocky. When yards are put in for new homes, the topsoil is trucked in and spread over the rocky areas. Eventually these rocks will come to the surface one by one over a period of time... Nature in constant renewal. [photo: Cecil]
This, I thought, was a very creative way to use the rocks, including old bricks and blocks from the builder's area... a sculptural edifice that makes the best of what's available, and is always undergoing change.
Not sure Cec would appreciate being cute but I do! BTW, we are cute and silly and stuff...after all these years.
Thanks for the read.