Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Moving to a New Home


In the spring of 1943, my Grandpa Ready died.  Before his death, he had been building a retirement home for himself and my grandmother in the Missouri countryside. He chose property just two farms away from where my family lived.
            The house was unfinished when he died, and Grandma Ready had no desire to complete it or to live there alone. So she offered to rent it to our family for $25 a month, which would be $331.08 today.
            Grandpa had already framed the walls of the one-story house and shingled the roof and exterior walls, but a lot of work still needed to be done. The interior wall studs supported the ceiling beams, and Grandpa had nailed the wall laths to these studs, but Dad needed to apply the plaster both to them and to the ceiling, finish the floor, and insert windows into the gaping holes on the outer walls.
            Each evening that summer and on Saturday, Dad worked on the house. Before school started, he had it ready for us to move into. He and Mom had painted the walls with a blush of spring green and had bought additional furniture because we now had two bedrooms and a larger living room.
            Several things were not completed—not then or by the time Dad died in 1975. He never surrounded the windows with indoor frames. To keep out the chill, Mom stuffed the four-inch wide by four-inch deep cavities with newspaper and hide the unsightliness with drapes. In addition, Dad painted only the front of the house. The other three sides remained unpainted during all the years he and Mom lived there.

Mom on front steps.

            Dad also never laid the kitchen floor, so we walked all those years on the wide boards that formed the underbelly of the floor. Narrow gaps between those boards allowed snakes to slither into the kitchen. But only one did during the time I lived at home. Insects, too, found those cracks.
            The city had not run water lines out into the countryside so we used a well and an outhouse. The small room between the two bedrooms would one day, we all hoped, become a bathroom with running water and toilet. In the meantime, we kept a slop bucket there for use during the night. I emptied it in the outhouse each day until my little brother got old enough to take the chore on. Dad never put up doors to the two bedrooms or that smaller room, so mother hung dark blue curtains in the three entryways.


Mom and Dad with outhouse in background.

            The house had six rooms: the living room flowed into the dining room. Those two rooms and the kitchen took up the left side and middle of the house. On the right side was a short hallway. At its front end stood Mom and Dad’s bedroom, at the far end the bedroom in which my brother and I slept. Between the two was the makeshift bathroom.
            In the coming months, I hope to share with you my life in that farmhouse and my adventures on the twenty acres on which it sat. I grew up there. It was there that I learned to dream.
                                                            (Continued next Wednesday . . . )
                       
PS: Tah! Dah! I am beginning a second blog today. It will be about writing. Specifically, my writing: How I began and how I continue. What success I've had and what I've discovered about the craft. What my hopes and expectations are and what my daily writing life is like. I’ve named the blog “my life as a wordcrafter.”
            If this sounds interesting to you, please click here to read the brief introduction I posted there today. My regular posting day will be Sunday.
             On the new blog this coming Sunday, I'll share with you the adventure of asking four blogger friends to help me rename “Twelve Habits of Highly Successful Cats & Their Humans” and design a cover for the re-issue of the book. All that happened this week and I’m so grateful for the support of others as I work at being a writer. Peace.           


     

47 comments:

  1. You wrote this so perfectly--I feel like I can see everything. I bet the Scribe would love living in a place like that. It would spark her imagination even more.

    P.S. I love your new blog ;)

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    1. Dear Elisa, yes, the Scribe would probably spend time peering at the ground through the kitchen-floor cracks, looking for snakes! Peace.

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  2. i am enjoying your biography. I hope i don' t miss a lot of it as I am going to Europe for a couple of weeks!

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    1. Dear Mim, going to Europe!!! how wonderful. I hope your trip is all that you're dreaming it will be. Peace.

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  3. It sounds as if Dad had a serious problem with procrastination, but so do a lot of other people. I'm going straight to your new blog.

    Love,
    Janie

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    1. Dear Janie, Dad did procrastinate. He had a physically draining manual labor job and came home tired each night and simply never wanted to do anything more than read the daily papers (we had both a morning and an evening one from the Kansas City Star), have supper, listen to a radio program like Fibber McGee and then go to bed. Peace.

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  4. I am your 3rd follower on the new blog--which I'm looking forward to reading on Sundays!

    I feel very fortunate that the house I grew up in was more finished than yours--& it had indoor plumbing!

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    1. Dear Fishducky, thanks so much for going to my new blog and signing on as a follower. I'll see you there on Sunday. About that indoor plumbing--when I went away to college and discovered showers I was in seventh heaven! Peace.

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  5. Dee, your mother was a saint. I know that people lived with so much less in those days, but not to finish the kitchen floor and let it open for critters for over 30 years, well, let me say it again, your mother was a saint.

    I am going over now to check your new blog. I am sure it will be sensational. Your advice will be very helpful to all those budding writers.

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    1. Dear Arleen, you're right, my mom was a special human being. I was greatly blessed in being her daughter. She died back in 1968 at the age of 58. By then the house had running water and she so enjoyed taking a long, hot bath. Peace.

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  6. I felt I was right there, walking through that farmhouse, escorted in with your words. I can't wait to read more of life there. I'm also eagerly heading over to your new blog- so glad you are writing it!

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    1. Dear Shelly, thanks for walking through the house with me. And thanks also for going over the the new blog! Peace.

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  7. Congratulations on the beginning of your other blog! I have found that having two blogs is both a blessing and a burden. I will look forward to seeing how you find the experience, and maybe I'll learn a thing or two! :-)

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    1. Dear DJan, I got the idea for doing the posting once a week on Sunday from you.
      This coming Sunday is when I'll be writing about how you helped me with the "Twelve Habits" cover and renaming. I'll link to your main blog then. Thanks again for all your help and your inspiration. Peace.

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  8. I enjoy reading these posts about your early years. I never understand how men just do so much, and then leave the rest unfinished. My husband has done that with many things around our house also. When I say I'll get someone in to do it, he says, "NO!" I'll do it, then it never gets done.. I remember seeing many half built houses when I was small. AND.. my hubby only painted the front of our house. I got a painter in to finish it while he was over seas.. KEEP sharing. <>~

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    1. Dear Crystal, I can see that you understand exactly what Mom felt like. She, too, would say that she'd do something that was then considered "men's work" and Dad would remonstrate with her and so nothing got done. Peace.

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  9. I am thinking about another blog too, to feature my stories. They are about as eclectic as my current blog, which is why I doubt they will ever be a book. Main thing is I think I would have a lot of fun doing it, which is what I hope for you. I hope this will not be too much for you, just something you will really enjoy. I am looking forward to checking in with you every Sunday and wish you the best.

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    1. Dear Inger, I'm so glad to learn that you are thinking about another blog. Like you, I hope to enjoy this second one and the fact that it's just once a week means that I'll be doing one posting on each of the two blogs a week. So I think I'll do okay time-wise. And thanks for the good wishes! Peace.

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  10. Oh my. Your mother must have loved your father very much to put up with snakes through the floor. That was the deal breaker for me.

    So good to read your posts!

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    1. Dear Susan, Mom and Dad truly did love one another. My classmates used to comment on how much they liked my parents. In coming posts I'll share the things that Dad did that truly upset Mom, but the two of them never argued in front of my brother or me. Peace.

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  11. Wow -- and I thought MY parents' home was primitive! Your descriptions are so vivid, Dee. I so enjoyed reading this -- and I'm delighted that you're starting a second blog!

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    1. Dear Kathy, when I was young, I was so ashamed of our house. I didn't want my friends to visit because they had to use an outhouse and there were no door except for the front and back entryways. Mom knew that I was ashamed and I've always regretted that I hurt her feelings. Peace.

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  12. Yes, I used to lament the abodes in which we resided after my mother remarried following quite a few single years, but the floors were solid. I'm pleased your beginning a second blog -- you'll certainly be keeping busy writing.

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    1. Dear Joared, I'm pleased about writing the new blog also. It came to me in a dream and I decided to follow through. Peace.

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  13. Yes, your mother must have been very patient to put up with a house so unfinished, Dee. My DH can procrastinate at times, but your Dad was in a league of his own. :-) The way you write about your grandfather and father just building a house from scratch reminds me of reading Laura Ingalls Wilder. Very different from the way things happened in the UK.

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    1. Dear Perpetua, you know I've never thought that their building the house from scratch was unusual. I guess I never asked any of my friends if their dads had built their houses. I think part of this was because we had moved out into the country and so we weren't in a settled area of already built houses. Peace.

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  14. Your mother seems like a happy soul, despite snakes coming through the floorboards. I enjoy the posts on your childhood. The settings seem somewhat similar to my own. Your descriptions are crisp and clear.

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    1. Dear Teresa, only one snake!!! And that was lying on the kitchen window sill one day when I went out to dip some water from the water bucket on the drainboard.
      Peace.

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  15. You are describing a life which would seem impossibly hard to so many nowadays. Yet there was happiness and a connection there and then. Thank you Dee this is beautiful and I am, as usual, anxiously awaiting your next post.

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    1. Dear EC, at the time, most of my friends lived in small houses in town. But none of us had much. We were all mostly in the same boat financially. My house though was different from all the rest of my classmates. But today, so many people live in poverty in apartment buildings that have peeling paint and rotten wood and leaky spigots. I wonder how those living in such dire need manage to stay hopeful. That is a mystery to me. Peace.

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  16. Surprising what people can live without. This was such a vivid description. Can hardly wait to hear more. Good luck with the new blog. I'm heading over. :)

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    1. Dear Rita, thanks for the good wishes for the new blog. And thanks for heading over there! Peace.

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  17. So much to look forward to here! I can't wait to hear more about your experiences in that house -- and the new blog! I'm clicking right over!

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    1. Dear Emily, I lived in that house from the time I was eight until I went away to college at 18. After that, I was there only for brief visits and for the summers. While I was in the convent from 1958 to 1966, the city laid the water lines out into the country and Mom finally got her hot baths. She so enjoyed them. Peace.

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  18. What an evocative post, Dee. I loved this: a life which I cannot imagine living so beautifully described.

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    1. Dear Kate, thank you for your kind words. Can you not imagine this because your house wasn't like the one in which I grew up? Or because the times were so different from now? Peace.

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  19. I enjoy reading your bio posts – it does not look to me as life was easy in that half finished house. I wish you well on your second blog – it would be very hard for me to have a second blog as I am always behind on the one I have. I try to post once a week but sometimes it is less and more often it is more, as right now with my husband health problems. He went to hospital last Thursday and they removed several tumors (malignant) – now we have to wait to Monday to see if there are more. Thanks for your great comments on my blog – I always look forward to reading them. I never knew anyone with asthma and image it must be scary.

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    1. Dear Vagabonde, truly I can't begin to imagine how much time goes into one of your postings. You need to go through all the vintage postcards you have and then through your photographs and then you need to think how to present the history so that it flows--like one of those rivers that you've traveled on a paddle boat!

      And when you do finally have it all written and edited and polished, you post and we all are astounded at what you've shared with us. I so love to learn and always I learn from your posts.

      I'm sorry to learn that your husband has malignant tumors. Life must be so frightening for you and for him right now. How are you keeping yourself from falling into panic?

      Peace.

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  20. It's so wonderful that you share so much of your life with us. I also look forward to read about you as a writer, I love it very much to get in touch with other writers. That's really inspiring, and is one of the reason I love having a blog.

    Wish you a wonderful week!

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  21. Dear Sanny, like you I so enjoy meeting other writers through blogging. Everyone has something to share, some story to tell, some experience that reveals who they are, and so I met through blogging so many people I've come to admire greatly.

    I wish you a wonderful week also! Peace.

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  22. Dear Dee, I have enjoyed catching up on your writings now that I'm back home, learning a bit more about Meniere's and about your early childhood.

    How devastating Meniere's can be. I knew of it, but, sorry to say, not much until reading of your challenges with it. Thank you for sharing it, Dee.

    I'll look forward to clicking onto your new blog a little later. Best to you.

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    1. Dear Penny, I"m glad to learn that you got home safely. Experiencing Meniere's Disease isn't easy at the best of times and for me, with the disease being "progressive" and "intractable"--the doctor said--only an operation helped. I was so blessed to meet Doctor Paparella. He truly gave me back my life. Peace.

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  23. I love that your stories span such a long period of time. Most of the people in my family who could tell those stories never did and I know that your memories are priceless to so many. I can't wait to check out the new blog...

    Love.

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    1. Dear Kari, yes! a truly l-o-n-g period. Like you, I grew up in a family that never told stories about the past. And the truth is that I didn't ask. Now all but my Uncle Jiggs are gone and their stories with them. I hope that someday my nephew and nieces will remember these stories I've been telling. It's sort of a legacy to them. Peace.

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  24. Your reminiscences are truly interesting because they describe such an unusual (for me) childhood. I suppose many families lived like you. Our life was poor too, but very different at the same time.

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    1. Dear Friko, yes, many families that lived out in the countryside had no running water, only well water. Many a bucket of water I lugged into the house! I think many of us born before the middle of the last century had little compared to today. And yet even today there is so much poverty around the world and here in the United States. To my way of thinking this is almost a scandal in a country like the United States where there is so much "conspicuous consumption" and waste. Peace.

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  25. Yes the world is full of memories for all of us and we seem to love to share them in whatever way we can. My post war homes were also without some of today's must haves.

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