The outside of our house looks bad. I can see my mom wince from the kitchen window every time she pulls in the drive. At last count there were five different sidings and house wraps advertising three different home improvement centers covering the exterior. We re shingled a few years ago, but since the house is pretty tall you really miss out on the best part.
We moved here almost 9 years ago. I remember precisely as it was 4 days after our second child was born. Three months later we welcomed two three month old Great Danes into our family. In the dead of winter. Great Danes don't have much hair. Baby Great Danes get cold easily. They spent the winter in our basement. The only advantage to this was that when they finally went outside they would only relieve themselves on hard surfaces. I never had to worry about setting my babies down on a "land mine" in the grass. They commandeered an abandoned outbuilding for their purposes. They apparently used the gravel road that runs by our house too, if the casual remarks from our neighbors about almost driving off the road to go around the gigantic piles left by our "horses" was any indication. In winter they hardened to boulders with the propensity to wreke great havoc to the undercarriage of passing cars. But I digress...
It used to bother me that it appeared that we lived in an abode no one cared for. I have long since stopped looking at the exterior when I come in the drive. The continuous addition of garden space is my coping mechanism. I am simply trying to divert attention long enough to get visitors in the front door. Much energy, time, and resource has been spent creating comfortable interior living space. I continue reminding myself it is a work in progress. We keep adding to the pre-siding punch list. The exterior is a theft deterrent, nobody would case this joint. We are only a decade into this... Most of all, our hope is the most important things are happening on the inside.
The neighbor stopped by yesterday. He wanted Breadwinner to give him an estimate for his roof. I'm pretty sure we will get the work because it gives our neighbor reason to stop and talk for the duration of the job. It's harder in the country to unobtrusively stop by to chew the fat. You can't just lean over the back fence or pause on the sidewalk as you casually walk by. While driving in the country you may think folks are rubber necking, but they are simply scoping for the opportunity for a neighborly chat.
Around our section are quite a few farms that were originally owned by the same family. Quite a few of the relations are still around. I learned yesterday this neighbor's father was born on our place in 1899 in a tiny house that sat where our grain bin does now. Our house was built not long after. I believe he said the family had 8 children. He also mentioned that 3 of them died. One from appendicitis, one from pneumonia, and he wasn't sure about the third. He said the four boys all shared one room above the kitchen, which is the master bedroom today. Two of the brothers never married and lived out their days here raising pure-bred cattle.
When we had our fifth baby here at home our midwife asked if we knew if any other babies had been born in this house. This intrigued me. Home birth used to be the norm. Our current culture tends to sterilize life. We remove major landmarks of life from the home. Often we are born and die somewhere other than where we really lived. Yesterday I learned our house has welcomed 6 babies into the world. This tidbit of information put a smile on my face and a bit more warmth in my heart for this old place. My family is beginning to stir this morning. My cue that the important things are about to begin happening...
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