We bought our current home, in the cute suburb type town where I grew up, because of all the reasons I enjoyed my home town. Quality schools, safe environment, small commute, near stores, and the other typical benefits of living in a suburb.
What we found though, was the school system was no longer anything like the system I or my parents attended. So much so that we are currently homeschooling (which is a blog in and unto itself, and I wont get into that here). A tragedy in my husbands family awoke me to the fact that bad things happen, even in "Mayberry". There is a park two blocks away. Growing up, if I had lived that close to a park, I would have been allowed (or even told) to go play at the park all day. Now, out of fear of the world we live in, I won't let my kids go down to the park by themselves.
A picture of Thelma Rushing's home, which is now our home. It was moved from East and West Street when the library wanted to expand their parking lot. Our neighbor and others in town have told us many wonderful stories about Mr. Rushing. We feel honored to live here. :) Picture credit
The truth is I could live here in this home for the rest of my life and be perfectly happy. We started a garden this year- tomatoes, okra, bell peppers, banana peppers, squash, bush beans, cucumbers, and zucchini. We put a large play set in the back yard for the kids this past fall, and they spend many hours playing on it- putting on "Circus Shows" for me.
In many ways it reminds me of the house I grew up in, just a few blocks down the road. It was built in 1910-ish, had 10 to 12 foot ceilings, beautiful moldings, and smelled of old wood.
But, in my heart of hearts, I have always wanted to be in the country, catching lightning bugs, playing in pastures, tending a large garden and yard birds.
Some of my favorite times as child growing up were at my pawpaw's cattle farm. Where my sister and I would catch catfish in his stocked ponds, play house in a dried up creek bed, step in cow poo, and get scratched up growing through barb-wire fences as we played tag.
My kids won't have those experiences, and I want them to. I want them to appreciate the beauty of nature on a sentimental level, not just because they read about ecosystems from a text book.
My husband has similar memories of his grandfather and their land, which was sold due to a highway right-of-way deal. He remembers learning to recycle and reuse from his grandfather. By keeping old tools or parts you could reuse them and build or fix things at a later date. My husband says he wouldn't know what he knows with out the knowledge passed down from his grandfather, in an old chicken coop turned shop.
I want him to teach our kids (girls included!) and me the things he knows, in his own old shop. I want to see him have the satisfaction of fixing something or making something better- that he seldom gets to do here in our suburban home.
I want my kids to be able to ride their bikes, with out fear of traffic or "stranger-danger".
I want to be able to sit on my front porch in my night gown and listen to the rain as I read my kids a book.
Searching for a place that's "the ticket" is easy. What has been harder to find is a home that "fits the bill."
I want more than I can afford. I've kept my eye on real estate the past couple of years. Property like we have in mind is too expensive for our one income family with three kiddos. So I have accepted that I may not be able to give those things to my kiddos, but I still have a lot of memories we can make here at our home.
About the time I had given up on my search, my friend Jacs started blogging about an old dog-trot they were restoring, I called her up.
I really liked what they found and was hoping to find a similar set-up. Jacs and I met one morning and went riding around looking for an old abandoned home. We both thought we might find an old farm house, shot gun house, or something. We both agreed it would extremely unlikely we would find another dog trot like hers. (Click her to visit her blog! You will love her dog trot and the way she tells the story of The House at Sugar Creek!)
But we did.
We were in mid conversation when we rounded the bend in the road. The talking stopped as we both gasped. "Stop the car!" I squeaked, as Jacs was already pushing down on the breaks.
We got out and walked up to the front of the house. My knees literally got weak. Maybe it was because we were sitting in the car riding around. Maybe my blood sugar got low. But I think it was because I fell in love with the house.
Jacs took a picture of me in front of the house and my smile was genuine- not something that usually happens when a camera is in front of me. Maybe that's why my husband likes the picture so much.
We debated snooping about the place, because there was a no trespassing sign and we didn't want to hurt ourselves being nosy.
We decided that since our intentions were not malicious and we would be extra careful not to damage our pretty faces, lol, that we would proceed with the utmost caution.
We walked carefully on the dog trot, along the floor joist as we looked in windows and looked for open doors.
The more I saw the more I loved the home place. Even after our encounter with a two headed monster!
Most of the doors were locked, but a couple had already been broken in. Jacs was the first to enter the room and she froze. We both heard hissing.
I called from the trot, "Jacs get out of there, it sounds like snakes!"
Still frozen she replied, "No... no... I don't know what this is but it isn't a snake. you have got to come see this."
Being completely freaked out, I hesitated. My curiosity won over and I reluctantly went over to where Jacs was holding the door open.
"It's got two heads." she said as I approached.
And there, hissing at us from the floor of the room, were two downy baby vultures.
Baby buzzards were now occupants of the most beutiful dog trot.
(Warning image below could be considered nasty.)
As silly as it sounds, seeing wildlife in the house and state of the home really upset me- near to tears.
Freaked out, we left and returned that evening with our husbands in tow. Should something bad happen, we wanted help with us.
The guys took an assessment of the damage and what needed to be repaired to preserve the home.
Later that evening, I asked my husband what would it take not only to preserve the home, but for it to be lived in. And so began a series of day dreaming of our family living in the Blackwell's Dog Trot.
I know it sounds crazy, but you have to understand, I will not live in a new home. I know the utilities are more expensive in old homes and there is a list a mile long of reasons NOT to buy a old- some would say antique- home. Just watch "The Money Pit" staring Tom Hanks and most will be deterred from living in anything but a new home.
But old things and places seem to call to me. Not in a monetary, greedy way, but in a sentimental nostalgic way. I just love old things.
I'll be the first to admit the way I reacted to seeing the Blackwell dog trot is over emotional and very unusual. To be honest, I know it is silly and uncalled for. I wish I didn't feel the way I feel about the house. I love old buildings and homes, but I've not had one bring me near to tears or make my knees weak the way this old home place does. I'm blaming it on my women hormones.
To satisfy my curiosity and love for the place, I decided I would contact the owner and find out the status of the property.
Stay tuned as the story unfolds!
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