old house fancy

Antiques and old house lovers like me always have their eye out for interesting architecture.  Going for a drive somewhere is elevated to a journey of discovery.  Whether it is the excitement of finding something unique in old house design or the satisfaction of coming across one that is well preserved and loved, there’s bound to be something interesting or new.

On a recent visit to Newport, driving around some of its tight streets where houses are knitted together within an inch of each other, I noted how clever the early colonists had to be in expanding their homes for growing families.  The juxtaposition of styles could be quite peculiar.  Considering the bit of land they had to work with, it’s no surprise that some expansions might look a bit odd – like this one:

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Whether old or new, odd as it is, it works for me.  There’s still a charm and fancy to it.  That collision of gable roof into gambrel, old materials and primitive odd chimney, the mix of clapboard and shingle, proud and sturdy window frames, crooked old door – this quirky little corner house, for me, just feels right.  It’s not just the materials – which are certainly key – but the proportion, balance, the weight of it.

Unlike some thoughtless additions done to old houses today, this one was thought out, each detail considered.  Down the street from me there is a late 19th century home that for the past year or so has undergone renovation (I use the term ‘undergone’ as in a patient who’s undergone a terrible surgery).  In original form, it was a simple, graceful, symmetrical little thing, but the new owner needed double the size.  Thankfully most of it went off the back.   All things considered, it could have been worse.  But then, out of the blue, out of necessity to house many vehicles, a garage the size of Mount Vernon arose.  Smack in line with the front of the house and dwarfing it, the three large bays face the road.  Really?  Wouldn’t you want to hide that?  Attach it behind the house if you must, or site it in the back forty, but don’t compete with the house.

There’s so much we can do to wreck the ambiance of a lovely home, to wake you from that dream glimpse into the past – but a major one that is hard to change is to build a garage (a giant one) with many bays of overhead doors and plop it right up front and next to your house.

How quickly this “acceptable” renovation went awry.  The builder/homeowner made a decision for convenience rather than aesthetic.  When a lovely old home lies outside of historic districts, there’s not much we can do.  There are no architectural police.  The old house doesn’t come with directions.

In the old days, their hands were tied, designs were few and fairly typical.  Carpenters tools were limited, their knowledge came from a few books, and there were rules.  They did their best to observe them, and when they stretched them the results were still “quaint.”

Now we have new tools, books and ideas – but no rules.  For old houses, that can only work in the right hands – the hands of those who have studied those old rules and are passionate about them.  Thankfully there are many.  There are experts to consult – for free!  Historians, historic district commissions and preservation groups – local, statewide, nationwide – all want to help.  Even museums to visit.  For any area outside of our own bailiwick, we need to put egos aside, and just ask.  Go on a journey of discovery – and may you find many surprises, fashioned by the “right hands.”

 

 

presents

Happy Holidays Everyone!  In the spirit of the season – I have a few presents to share.  First, a book suggestion, from my all time favorite old house photographer, artist and writer, Samuel Chamberlain.  He did a series of books for Hastings House – all photographic documents of how these homes and rooms looked in earlier days, before we truly began modernizing them.  The black and white/sepia photos have a wonderful atmosphere.  I can just imagine him knocking on doors of strangers with his camera, hoping for a peek inside.   His books are beautiful, and an invaluable resource for the homeowner as well as the restorer.  You’re sure to find one in an antique book shop somewhere.  I found this one on Amazon.

Chamberlain Book

And here’s a link to an article about very early Christmases in New England by one of my favorite editors – New England Antiques Journal’s John Fiske.  It’s an interesting and fun read.

https://www.antiquesjournal.com/flipbooks/neajdec13/files/62.html

Lastly, you must try this pumpkin pie recipe!  It’s the best I’ve ever tasted.  It’s from an old cookbook I bought at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston many years ago,”The Fine Arts Cookbook I.”   I hope they don’t mind, and I thank Mrs. Curt Gowdy, of the Ladies Committee, for entering the recipe.

Enjoy!

Pumpkin Chiffon Pie

1 baked pie shell

1 1/4 cups canned pumpkin (not pumpkin filling)

1/4 tsp salt

1 cup sugar

3 egg yolks

1 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp ginger

1/4 tsp nutmeg

1 package plain gelatin

1/4 cup ice water

3 egg whites*

1/2 cup sugar

1 pint heavy cream

sugar and flavoring to taste

In a saucepan, mix pumpkin, salt, 1/2 cup sugar, egg yolks and spices, and cook over moderately low heat for 6-7 minutes. /Dissolve gelatin in water. /Stir into hot pumpkin mixture. / Set aside to cool. / Beat egg whites until stiff. / Gradually add remaining 1/2 cup sugar and beat until stiff. / Fold into cooled pumpkin mixture and spoon into baked pie shell. / Chill until firm. / To serve, whip cream, adding sugar and flavoring to taste, and pile this on top of pie.

*I first made it years ago with real egg whites and it was delicious.  And obviously – I lived to tell about it.  But because of concerns with raw egg white,  you can substitute meringue or egg white powder.

when bad things happen…cont’d

I couldn’t resist continuing this conversation after coming across a house that has been castrated, bastardized, sterilized, and all but ripped from its roots.  Sorry about the language folks, but just when I think sometimes I’ve had enough, said enough, this happens.  Of course it’s not the only one, but ohmygosh, all I can ask is why???

http://www.findnewenglandhomes.com/property_information.asp?mls=71518725

Why would anyone turn a house built in 1720 into a sterile cookie cutter concoction?  Why make antique walls flat and straight, clean and new, or sand color, character and wear from floors that took two hundred years to achieve?!  Why expose brick where it was never meant to show, and put ugly wood over fireplaces where surely lovely paneling had been?  What is the mindset here?

Are there really not enough buyers out there looking to live in the real thing?  Is the only way to sell an old house these days to open it up, sand the hell out of it and paint it a sterile white?

I call it Nantucket contemporary.  I’ve seen a lot of them, new and old, in magazines, and in person.  Not quite as bad as this one, but definitely made to look like half asylum, half home.

The bright side? At least it’s still standing.  At least the outside covering is still those wonderful weathered shingles, and the proportions of the house are great.  The chimney seems good – but too bad about that metal flue sticking up.  The walkway, the paving, the garage doors, ugh.

Just had to vent.  If nothing else, this is an example of what not to do to an old house.

Maybe someday, some kind soul will save it, again, the right way.

when bad things happen to good houses

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Here’s another one with just days to live.  Don’t know exactly how this happened.  Looks like it was loved, and lovingly restored, in the last few decades, yet here we are.  I’m told it is to be dozed to dust in just two weeks’ time.  But that was two weeks ago.  Not sure I want to go back to verify.  If we were younger, hardier, and less cynical than when we began, I would have called, would have pleaded, would have found a way.

But we’re in another age.  One that has a lot more bureaucracy, regulations, and expense.  One that cares more about the future than the past, as it is found in a few pieces of old wood, and wavy glass.

This one’s location is fairly remote, and a field of solar panels will inhabit its back forty for about that many years.  It’s called progress.

I was never a fan of houses built into a hill, where the front looks like a two story farmhouse and the back, like a cape.  The first level is essentially the basement and tends to be damp.  It’s a bit confusing as to which should be the main floor, up or down?   But this particular one retains a charm, at both levels.  The last owners/restorers did a really nice job.  The addition of glass and a door at the side of its basement/modern kitchen, I think, worked really well.  They held the dampness and mold at bay.

These owners gave it good windows, a wood roof, and lovely clapboards.  Inside they insulated, plastered, paneled, designed a charming kitchen, added nice electric sconces.  It was obviously loved.  As to what happened – it’s anybody’s guess.  Since left abandoned, for all to enter, many have, and much has been lost.  Vestiges of what was, fluted corner posts, exposed beams, lovely stone fireplaces, are all that’s left.  The present (corporate) owners have no vested interest in having the house remain, and vandalism is their best excuse for erasing a history they previously pledged to preserve.

Another good old house, its owners and its history, become ghosts of our colonial past.

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summer reading

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For old house lovers, and for all who wonder what it’s like to do the dirty work of taking them down, taking them apart, saving and stockpiling their materials, preserving or restoring them  – you’re sure to enjoy this romp through Anne Baker’s life.  This may be her first book, but it reads like her tenth.   This passionate preservationist knows how to weave a tale.   From growing up in her grandmother’s old manse in Warren, RI to the house that “disappeared” overnight, her adventures in saving old structures are broad and captivating.

We met Anne a long time ago while in college.  She introduced herself as “Pete.”  Said her dad always wanted a boy.  We were up on the porch roof puttying the 2nd floor windows of the 1800’s house we’d bought in our last year of college.  (It had no heat, plumbing, electricity, a pump outside for water, and a bucket in the shed for when nature called)

Pete drove her big black antique car right onto our front lawn.   A petite blonde, with a pony tail, weighing all of about ninety pounds, spilled out of the driver’s side.  She wanted to welcome us to the neighborhood, thank us for fixing up the old place, and invite us to see her own labor of love just down the street.  We were used to people stopping by when we were working on old houses, but not used to meeting anyone who knew much about them, so we thanked her kindly but passed on the invitation.  Initially.

A few weeks later we decided to check out her project.  Needless to say we were stunned.  A whole new world opened up for us, and these neophytes were even further hooked.  She and her husband became valuable advisers in our next steps.   One of our finds was an ancient house nearby with a massive chimney that you could access and walk between the fireplaces via a cubby through the staircase – how exciting!  But it was in a terrible location.  We deliberated whether we could live there – then Anne and her husband Bob suggested we dismantle and move it.  What?!  We hadn’t heard of such a thing.   The rest was history.  We’ve dismantled, relocated and restored many since then.

You can read about her own house project along the banks of the Westport River, and many others, in this book.  What a storied life, what a woman.  Sadly, she passed about a year and a half ago, at the age of 82, still learning, always researching.  Sorely missed, but by example, forever inspiring.  Before there was women’s lib, this determined, confident, adventurous, passionate and independent woman was already doing what she wanted, in a man’s world.

Enjoy!

out of sight

Micro-switches to turn on lighting can be embedded in the edge of a door casing. Can you see it?  The main thing is there is no ugly light switch on the wall!

Micro-switches to turn on lighting can be embedded in the edge of a door casing. Can you see it?

Ambiance – one of the main reasons we choose to live in an old house.  The wood, the plaster, the history, the feeling that when we walk into a room, we’ve just stepped back in time.  To immerse ourselves in that and forget all that’s happening in the modern world outside our doors and small paned windows, we have to make sure that there are few, or no, traces of that world within.

In restoring or reconstructing an old house, one has to allow as little intrusion or change as possible.  If you let the harbingers of progress, aka the electricians, hvac folks and plumbers, have their way, each competing to have their craft stand prouder than the others, goodbye old house.   It’ll still be there, in the basement, in the attic, behind the walls. But the intimate spaces that you treasure will be marred.

I realize that some change is required, but there are ways to subdue it.  However, the homeowner will have to be pro-active.  They will have to walk softly and carry a big stick with the trades.  Inquire as to the least obtrusive areas to place outlets, switches, heat registers.  Think like a sleuth.  Plan like it matters.  You can’t just let the trades have a go with your rooms!  A plumber, who once arrived ahead of us, went right along and cut a hole in a wide plank floor board to run a pipe.  After our shock and subsequent repair we found another, hidden way.   We once let an electrician, who had been with us a long time, place the electric meter on an old house without our being there.  Turns out he let his apprentice do it without his direction.  We were shocked to find the meter on the front corner of the house!  Who does that?  Someone who cares only to get the job done and move on.  To them, I guess, an electric meter is a beautiful thing?  Of course, we moved it around to a less conspicuous spot on the side of the house.

Plan, persuade, rant and rave if you have to!  To maintain the integrity of these old structures, to witness them as they once were, you always have to take the path of most resistance!  And then you get to enjoy that ambiance, forever.

tiny micro-switch

tiny micro-switch

a little levity

When the world wearies and ceases to satisfy (the pocketbook) – grow a Money Plant.

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Lunaria – money plant, aka honesty (a word rarely used in the same sentence with money) grows by many names.  It is a lovely herb for the garden.  Plant just one, then watch them pop up everywhere two years later.  A biennial, it’ll seed itself and surprise you when you least expect it.   Like finding silver dollars (another of its names) lying in a garden bed.  Its purple blossoms are fragrant, and its green coins when dried and rubbed together, reveal its silver.  Other than being a pretty face in the garden and later in a dried arrangement, that’s about all it’s good for, as far as I know.  Except for the part about how it wards off monsters, holds magical moon-charged dew, and somewhere, in some time, someone ate its roots – yikes.  It’s just fun to watch and participate in – so go plant some money!

Three Sisters – For Sale

Three of the most exceptional homes in my neighborhood, sited right along the old thoroughfare that was laid out three hundred years ago and called Main Street, are presently for sale.  There is a changing of the guard in this old town.  We old folks are fading.  What, we didn’t think it could happen to us?  Kids grow, we age, the old house ages even more, another chapter beckons.

So here we are hoping that another generation will be enticed by the charms of Main St.  Of course we’re hoping for a lot more than that.  We’re hoping the charms of the house will remain intact – original wood siding, wood or slate roofs, original windows, doorways, chimneys and its entire package of glorious trim.  I know, I’m hoping for a lot.  Landscape too – old trees needn’t be cut down and replaced with newer flowering specimens.

WatsonHouse

Enough worry.  Let me tell you about these houses.  First, the Watson house.  All eight thousand square feet of it.  That’s a lot of square feet for a house without an addition.  Instead of sideways, this house goes up.  Way up.  Three amazing stories of antique house – the first of its kind in the CT River Valley.  In 1788 John Watson was a wealthy man, and it showed – pedimented doorways, Palladian windows, decorative cornices, columns, and brownstone steps galore.  Even the privy is elegant!  And the carriage shed, with pilasters and arched openings heavily molded with linen fold key blocks.

Inside is a walk through the history of architectural detail.  Original raised paneling decorates every fireplace wall (large and small), wainscoting, doors, flooring, molded cornices – it’s all there, on all three floors.  Some bedrooms even have original block printed wallpaper – some French, and one that was printed right here in Hartford.

Of course some updating is needed, some mechanical, mostly cosmetic, and very much daunting for a house of this size.  This is why they are asking only $359K.  And the fact that a major thoroughfare is nearby – a negative to some, but an opportunity for many – great spot for a home office.  The exterior needs repair around windows and eaves to prevent any further leaking, and the entire outside needs scraping and painting.  On the inside, some floors have been sanded and the nails sunk to enable the process.  Oh my goodness, I can’t think about that travesty.  But in spite of it, the house has overwhelming character.  Everyone who visits dreams of owning it, perhaps to run as a B&B – which it previously was – or perhaps just to dream.

So now we’re looking for a dreamer.  If there’s one out there, with a passion for history, a love of architecture, and a whole lot of either greased elbows or money – we welcome you with open arms and open hearts!

More pictures & info here –

http://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/1876-Main-St_South-Windsor_CT_06074_M38701-28551

(PS – will add the other two sisters to this post shortly)

Second Sister (oops – this one may not be after all – but someday : )

The mother of all doorways is for sale.  The catch – you have to buy the house it’s attached to.  And the other CT Valley triangular pediments attached to that, the paneling and other meticulous detail that I’m sure is inside, and the slate roof over it all.  Oh, and the acreage.  And the history – the ancestral home and property of the family of Ulysses S. Grant.

Of course, you’ll also have to live in an historic neighborhood, on the east side of the Great River, in CT’s first town.  Hard to find a down side.

The only down side might be the occasional stopping of cars out front to admire the hand carved broken scroll pediment doorway and doors featured prominently in many books, magazines and publications as the premier example of its type in all of New England.

This house had an earlier start than its noted date of 1757, but its renovation and enlargement to a two chimney grand style, certainly did it no harm.  Its interior is probably as rich as its exterior suggests, but we’ll have to wait for those realtor’s pics, or be still my heart – an open house – for more elaboration on that.  I know it’s a gem.  Even if it were gutted on the inside, its place in history is rich and secure and sealed forever in time by the most magnificent 18th century doorway on the planet.

Feast your eyes on this:

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Third Sister

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I have been researching the American Picturesque movement of the 19th century and its reason for being.  Gothic Revival, Carpenter Gothic – known by many names – highly popular movement away from our classical roots in the antebellum days of the 19th century – strongly influenced by the collaboration of noted architect Alexander Jackson Davis and landscapist Andrew Jackson Downing.  Two men with confusingly similar names, kindred spirits in a romantic time.  I had not been a fan of this architecture, but the more I learn, the more I appreciate it – especially its grace and simplicity when compared to the later chaos of Second Empire and High Victorian Gothic.  The only one of its kind in town, and quite possibly in  Hartford County, designed by AJD.  It really is exquisite in its detail, high ceilings, and dare I mention – I had previously posted this – its two story outhouse! (which is attached by the way, so maybe it should be “in”-house?)

Lovely barn, two and a half acres, history, lovely neighbors, local library and post office, everything a soul could want – on the market for $575K.

more pics & info –

http://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/660-Main-St_South-Windsor_CT_06074_M40846-44187

gingerbread

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Okay, I admit it, I like gingerbread, but gingerbread houses, in their many architectural forms from the Victorian type to the cookie and candy type, have never been my cup of tea.  This year, I came around to giving it a try to help contribute to making our local gingerbread festival become the largest in New England.   My first effort ever, so much to learn, thank you internet!  So much figuring, from the best recipe to use for the gingerbread, how much, how thick, how strong, the best royal icing – raw whites vs powdered whites vs meringue powder, what candy to use or make your own, create small paned windows? yikes! pedimented doorways? yikes; roof shingles – wheat thins, necco wafers, cereal – most won’t do for this simple house; what materials for  landscape, animals, snow…..Oh my goodness, really, it’s a full time job – if you wait until the last minute, which I did.  But if you start way before Thanksgiving, so you can take your time and be thoughtful with it, enjoy the process, I’m sure it can be fun.

It’s amazing how quickly the grocery store transforms from a food source into an architectural source for a miniature version of your home.  Your dry goods cupboards become filled with warning signs for the family – do not eat – this is not cereal, these are roof parts; these are not snacks, they are wagon wheels; this is not frosting – it is glue!  Someone did eat half the roof shingles for breakfast and I had to buy more.

Putting the whole thing together is as tiring as building a real house!  Melting candy for windows, measuring your house to scale so the proportions are correct, drawing & cutting it out for a pattern;  mixing the dough, or house walls, roof, chimneys, doors & doorways, etc. then building it, using only edible items, quite a challenge.  Then there’s the landscaping, and story to add.  Something needs to be going on to make it come alive.  But by the time you get to that part – especially when you’re in a hurry – you’re not feeling so alive!

I appreciate all the candy additions to other whimsical houses – hats off to you folks with your amazingly clever buildings & embellishments – but for this simple 17th- 18th century gingerbread house, those just won’t work.   More appropriate accoutrements had to be figured out.  Maybe it’s just me, spending so much time figuring out how to make snowmen without ready made products like marshmallows in a bag, or making a tree with chocolate from scratch, the birds, and a cat – with whiskers!  (that was a fun accidental discovery).

Besides the festive greenery, nothing looks and smells of Christmas more than a gingerbread house – so I just had to share this one – to prove that old houses without all that fancy gingerbread/candy – can still add to the spirit of the season, and look lovely.  Figuring all this stuff out was enormously challenging –  good for the brain.  Soon to be good for the stomach : )

Happy Holidays Everyone!

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old wood and wavy glass

warped doors and slanted floors, crooked walls and drafty sills – what’s not to love about an old house?  There are stories in all of them.  A love story etched into a pane of glass, a revolutionary war registered in a back room closet, a ferry ride long ago remembered on a beam.  All part of what make living in an old house an “experience,” a privilege – and an exercise in patience.  Real wood, real glass, real human hands have imperfectly shaped them for over two hundred years.  Ordinary lives like our own, who loved, lost, worked and prayed, have left a character and integrity lingering in the walls, a warm spirit in the patina.   I do hope the next generation will remain “real” enough to feel it.

I am reminded of these words by Margery Williams, “Velveteen Rabbit” author, about what it is to be “real.”  I do think that she was talking about an old house, and the people who love them.

“Real…doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse.  “You become.  It takes a long time.  That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.  Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.  But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”