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Sun 13 Apr, 2003 07:40 am
I have been letting my mind wander, as is my wont, and it took itself off to when I had a house, instead of an apartment as I currently do.
Houses, it seems to me, have more of a life of their own than do apartments - at least they do when you are out of them a lot.
For instance, houses need a lot more activities to keep them going. When I had a house, I had a little community of people to do things to it - I had a cleaner, (who was also a gardener, but not for me), a lawn-mower man and his ever-changing doofus offsider (you just can't get these lads to WORK, he would say, as I commented on each new doofus lad), Brenton the plumber (a close friend's brother - who became a fixture after next door built on, and did something weird and unfathomable to my drainage system that nobody could ever figure out. Brenton is a dear - forever marked in my mind after I recommended him to another friend when their rain-water tank blocked. They returned home to find a newly cleaned and unblocked tank, a teeny grave with a little cross in the garden, and a little note to say the tank had been blocked by the body of a baby possum.) and assorted bit players, who came, but not so regularly, and, of course, assorted friends, neighbours and so on.
As well as the human visitors, there were numerous animal players in the secret drama of my nearly century old house. There were the fruit rats, who lived in the tumbledown shed next door - they made me think I had aliens the first time I found a number of the lemons on my Meyer lemon tree still hanging placidly from the branches, but with all their skin neatly removed (rats, like us, cannot produce vitamin C). To them, my home was a lemon tree, a compost bin, and a major thoroughfare to and from all the neighbourhood fruit trees - they used the wooden fence-supports as roads.
There were all the birds, who came to graze on the lawn (sparrows and black-birds), mess up the garden beds (starlings) sip from the flowers (various honey-eaters and such) drink from the bird-bath (everyone - including the ones too big to fit, who spilled all the water) show off (willie wagtails) look beautiful (all the native lorikeets, cockatoos etc).
Then there were the insects - the bees, to whom I am allergic, who came to enjoy all the flowers - (and terrify me every year when a swarm of them would decide I had a very desirable cavity wall, just what they were looking for, thank you - eeeek, terror and a garden hose!) - the termites who had once visited and eaten out half the bedroom floor and tunneled in the skirting boards and whom I always suspected of wanting to try again, the ants who always wanted to come-in-oh-just-this-once-PLEASE when it was very hot and whom I always discouraged politely, the moths and butterflies and crickets and earwigs and millipedes and preying mantises and such-like who always wanted to come in, too - and the spiders who always wanted to let them - or who liked to wait by the door to catch those trying to get in.
These are just a few of the players on the stage of my home - I shall tell you some stories of them, and others, as the thread continues.
Does YOUR place have a secret life?
Hi D. ------- Every house is it's own little world, with it's built in history.
I certainly think houses reflect the various lives that have been lived in them during previous years. Sad, happy, young and old lives.
Some time ago now, we moved to the South West of England for a couple of years and after much house hunting, we settle for a Victorian house. The kind of property that would of been built for a businessman or a profesional man, lawyer, doctor. The house had been empty for several weeks following the death of the little old lady who had lived there.
The house retained many of the original design features, it's built in cupboards, wood panels, picture rails, plumbing and coal fireplaces. Everything worked fine except for the electric which needed modernising for safety reasons.
The house felt perfect, with a happy ambience. It had been a family home, babies born and raised. The property had only 3 previous owners in something like a 100 years. Proof I feel that it was a quality property whose occupents had led quality lives.
In the earlier 90s we lived in Gloucester for 3 years, at the same time as the notorious serial killer Fred West was under investigation. I often would park my car very close to his house of pain and even before West was being investigated and the cops were digging up his basement, there was a cold, unwelcome atmosphere in the area. I certainly believe that the unknown past, good and bad lives on and is often reflected emotionaly in today's world.
As moving looms, I have been thinking about this a great deal, as I adore my house and hate the thought of leaving it. Another Victorian. The main animal visitors are squirrels (truly, fluffy-tailed fruit rats) who are simultaneously cunning and dumb as rocks. We have a bird feeder, and we engaged in a battle of wits trying to keep the feeder away from the squirrels -- we lost. (I suspect I'm going to see "What do you know, you're dumber 'n a squirrel" in an upcoming politics melee...) We gave up at the last feeder position, which is hanging from a slenderish branch of the lilac on a long cord. The squirrels shimmy down the cord, circus-like, upside down, and grab on to the metal mesh sides while easing themselves over the metal lip that is supposed to keep them out. (Yeah, right.) Then they chow down.
The sozlet's highchair is positioned to see the bird feeder -- she could correctly identify cardinals, chickadees and juncos from about a year old -- and she gets very agitato if the squirrels make their move when she's watching. She yells at them through the window -- "SQUIWELS!!!! No! That's NOT YOURS! That's the birdies' food! That's NOT YOURS!". She then asks me (tells, really), to go out and make cat noises at them, and is quite happy and a touch gloaty when I do so and they zoom off, making spectacular leaps from the feeder in the direction of the big oak tree. When we are settled again, she says absently between forkfulls "Not yours, squiwel. Birdies'."
Hi, Deb and all,
The house that we owned in Virginia had much more character than the one that we live in now, but it was two stories and sat on the side of a hill.
The English boxwood that my father planted; the fir trees that we transplanted; the lilac bushes that smelled so delightful, but were so delicate; the black walnut trees--the sugar maple--the broad front porch; yes, I miss those things. Here, this house holds no secrets because it was built in 1982 and had only two previous owners; however, I do have a couple of alligators that occasionally visit our pond and moorhens that are so very different than the fowl of Virginia...
When we first moved in here, there was a mysterious stain on the carpet that seemed to return no matter what we did. My next door neighbor built the house, and I asked him if the previous owner had died in the house. Being the pragmatic lawyer that he is, he replied, "Nah, that stain was probably from the lady's pets." Sheeze, How to kill an eerie thrill in one sentence.
Hmmmm - houses with bad secrets - I know what you mean, OAK.
I love the look of your fluffy-tailed rats, Soze - to me they are exotic fauna! Have you considered that you Americans, with your bird favouring habits, are busy breeding a species of super suiggle - capable of ever more stunning feats of mental and physical agility? In centuries to come, as the pathetic remnants of the human race cower in caves, hiding from the super squiggles, whose genesis will be traced to this very time when natural selection was interfered with by well-meaning humans and their IQ enhancing squiggle gyms, your embittered descendants will curse your names and your bird-feeders!
Letty - I am sure the stain was from the ectoplasm of a most romantic ghost! Ignore your doubting Thomas neighbour! Reclaim the stain!
Perfect rallying cry;
"RECLAIM THE STAIN"
(now for a cause????)
Clinton's next presidential campaign - rebutting the tactics of the republicans during his tenure?
Hmmmm - I guess it IS a White House secret - or was...
hello? hello? my god, it's quiet in here - toooo quiet - I can hear every floorboard creak - every mouse fart...I think I have a ghost - I am alone and frightened...heeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp!
Yes Deb, my house does have a life of it's own. We put out bird feeders to attract all those pretty little birds, but instead get every black bird in town. We have hummingbird feeders that do quite well. I have a large garden out back in which I must chase the deer out from time to time. We have a few mice that keep getting in the house and since I won't kill them, I have these have a heart kind of traps where I catch them and put them outside. I probably keep catching the same ones, but what the heck. We have 5 acres of land and have to mow about 2 acres of it in the summer time. #1 son loves to drive the lawn tractor, so that helps. We have a big house, so just the thought of painting makes me cringe. We have a rabbit who has her own fenced in area out back which is nice for her since she doesn't have to live in a cage.
Hmmmm - does it love you back?
I came home once and found the lawn-mower man, the cleaner, the kids from next door and Brenton the plumber - plus an apparently stray Rottweiler - all discussing the placement of my weeping mulberry - which was still in its pot being moved about and experimented with. Houses are weird.
And I used to come home and the cats had clearly been doing something - and stopped. I mean, WHAT WERE THEY DOING? And why did they always look guilty? it was like they had been talking about me.....
Then there was the time the air-conditioning intake thingy suddenly, overnight, developed a spanish moss hanging dust effect. WHY?
Or the day the house decided to lean on, and sever, the phone cord - which came through from next door up in the huge roof space.
it is weird.
dlowan wrote:Hmmmm - does it love you back?
I think so, specially when I am giving it a big makeover <SIGH>
Gautam, are you a dab hand with a paint brush and Polyfiller ?
Nopes John, but I am a dab hand at finding Lucaz and Associates to do it for me :p
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