New York Years - The Old House

  

In the fall of 1968, we moved to the other side of Hoags Corner into a small house, snuggled up to hill along a road that followed a creek. It was a small house, but full of character. There were 2 main room downstairs, a narrow stairway, with 2 more rooms upstairs. A garage and porch had been added.

There was no bathroom, but a hallway behind the kitchen that led to an outhouse. We used it and washed in the sink until we remodeled part of my parent's bedroom into a bathroom.

My father knocked out part of the wall to the closed-in porch to make it a living room/sewing area. The walls were made of hand-hewn beams with square nails. With a bit of research, he estimated that the house was built in the 1700's.

The fireplace had a working crane to hold pots over the fire. We sometimes used it to cook soup or stew. When my father shined a flashlight in the space behind the fireplace, he could see a box fastened to the wall. There was much speculation as to what could be in it. He had to open another wall to reach it. We hoped there would be old papers or even money in it...but there was nothing but dust. I still think it used to hold valuables.

Upstairs, were two bedrooms. One had a big chest of drawers that must have been built up there, for it was too big to go up the stairwell or through a window. My brothers shared one room and I had the other. A long attic space connected the two rooms. (The attic was a spooky place to me. I sometimes put something in front of the attic door at night...just in case!) We found lots of old interesting things in that attic. There were dozens of old jigsaw puzzles with no picture on the covers of the boxes.
(Maybe that's where I got my love for jigsaw puzzles!)

The next spring, my father tore apart the outhouse, cutting off the top and making it into a neat little playhouse-complete with a door and window. Our new bathroom had an iron tub with claw feet. The window faced the hill (only about 6 ft away) that Mama covered with johnny-jump-up flowers.

Next week: the neighborhood