Yesterday, I went home.
"Home" might have different meanings to different people. Usually, it's where you hang your hat or, according to a quote I love, it's 'where, when you go there, they have to let you stay.'
But right now, I mean where I grew up.
Son and I wanted to restore the heirloom raspberries that my father planted 60 years ago. I had brought some to this property 20 years ago when we were quite new here, and they did all right until some uncaring workmen through the wire fence they were taking down into them. The neighbor promised to have them come and remove it, but they never did, and it was too heavy for me. It wasn't until about 5 years later that Son and Hubby together got it out, but what hadn't already been ruined by the fence was pulled up entangled with it. A few plants struggled along, but I didn't really have time to take care of them, and this year they are gone entirely.
So I went 'home' to dig up more.
The house Dad put so much love and work into is a shambles. The older woman who bought it so that her dogs would have somewhere to run can't really afford the upkeep. It should at least be painted, but where does an old lady on SS get the funds for that?
But it pulled at my heart strings. The porch where I learned to roller skate; my bedroom windows. ... She invited us in, but we had too little time, and I'm not sure I could have taken it, anyway.
So I brought away some pictures.
Front of house with porch and my windows which are the double ones on the upper story. The door on the left used to be the main entry, but for some reason inexplicable to me, a layer has been added over the front basement room, making it impractical to go across. *sigh* As a four-year-old, I helped nail down the cement board that was the 'paving' of the porch.
These are apparently the stairs that are in use now. My father built them (along with most everything else) mostly for his own use.
He built the entire front - everything forward of the double-window part of the house. Heh - no wonder I'm always building.
Here's the back of the house. You can see how big it was. It ended up with six bedrooms, three of which were in my father's additions.
The lighter structures that were in back have all fallen in. There were a greenhouse and a shed, and a small storage room. But all of the part that juts out toward you, on both sides, was added by Dad.
This is what was a chicken coop, back when the raspberries were new. Still standing, totally abandoned.
And this was the raspberry patch - so little of it left now. Son is digging up a daffodil for me.
After acquiring about 8 raspberry bushes, we went to visit my niece. Much happier story. She has a lovely home just a half-mile away occupied by a loving husband, and red-haired toddler, four goats, several chickens and 2 guinea hens, which eat all the bugs, most notably ticks.
She also has some nice gardening going, though not as extensive as mine. She has to maintain good fencing to keep out the chickens.
And I came home with a dozen eggs. Which reminded me just how 'watery' our commercial eggs are. One medium size egg is a plentiful meal.
If you want to see my garden progress, check out my blogspot: http://babatarogarden.blogspot.com/</j-cut>