House Hunting!

A month ago I caught these house hunting Bluebirds checking out my digs!  

I can hear Bluebirds singing each time I am outside.  I think Spring really is just around the corner.  :)

"Sticks and stones, Love..." "A Rose by any other name..."

My favorite book in the whole world starts out, "Last night I dreamt of Manderly..."

If you have read this old book you know by that line exactly what I am talking about.  Manderly is a house.  Daphne du Maurier was the author of my favorite book, Rebecca.  An aunt gave me a copy of that book when I was in my early teens.  It remains a wonderful murder mystery and I bet I've read it a half a dozen times.  I own several copies...just in case I find a young reader who likes to get lost in a good book.  Ms. du Maurier describes Manderly so well that it seems to have a life of it's own.  When I went to visit a famous house here in the states and I went up the winding drive, I felt I was about to see Manderly.  The Biltmore too, seems to have a life of its own. This past winter I read another book called Mrs. de Winters.  It was a continuation of life of the characters after Manderly.  It was written by Susan Hill as Ms. du Maurier has long since past away.  Ms. Hill understood the importance of the leading lady finding another house with a name and personality of it's own.  Cobbett's Brake is the new house.  The original murder mystery is continued in this second book.  Although the ending of this story made me sad, it really ended as it should have.  Ms. Hill was able to make Cobbett's Brake come alive just like Ms. du Maurier did to Manderly!    

-----

When I walked into my new house-to-be, I sensed a presence.  It was not of a person, or spirit, it was something in the character of the house.  This house has a personality.  It wraps itself around you and makes you feel safe.   I know these walls have many tales they could tell.  When you see this house from the road it looks small and cozy.  When you step inside you feel like you have been welcomed home.  One can find their own space to unwind.  Had Ms.' du Maurier or Hill stepped in here they would feel it too.  They would understand my desire and need to find a name for this place.  

Right away I told my kids and my husband my plan.  This house needed a name.  As an expectant mother learns that it's best not to tell others prematurely your baby's name...others will voice their unsolicited opinions which usually aren't in favor of your choice, but once the baby is born all will easily accept your choice...I haven't told many the house name.  My children were to give suggestions.  I wanted something earthy, woodsy, and maybe a bit magical.  My son has read all of JRR Tolkien's books, surely he could suggest a name.  My daughter is very creative, she too would have good ideas.  

In the end it was my husband who casually mentioned what the house felt like to him.  "That's it!"  I said, "The Burrow."  This house is not like the burrow in Harry Potter, but it is like the burrow in it's comfort and how it welcomes all. 

Earlier this summer, I went to an amusement park with my brother-in-law and our two sons.  I had the above sign made for our new place.  My BIL asked, "what will your husband think of this?"  It was that unsolicited, non-encouraging tone that made me aware that his opinion was soon to follow, "He'll LOVE it!" 

And he does.  :)  Come visit us at The Burrow!  

1372 Leeward Road, LOFS

written on June 15, less than two hours until it officially left our family....

In less than one hour you will belong to someone new. I remember seeing you as a new born - or even earlier! Just a bare piece of field land...that's what you were. Just north of us was a horse farm - boy were the flies thick in the summer, and huge too! Sometimes the few cow that lived north would get free and roam the golf course, they sure loved that special grass! I remember the call mom received from Karen next door, "Pen, do you see what I see?"

I remember the construction equipment that knocked down your weeds. It exposed your rich soil and made piles that were excellent for a young boy and girl to ride their bikes over.

I remember every stage of your growth. From the basement and foundation being poured to framing, to duct work, electrical and plumbing work to drywall being installed. I remember dreaming with my brother - "here's where my room will be" and walking through the framed walls.

Every day during your creation I remember riding my bike from the campground with my brother to check on your progress after school. Darn that winter though, no bikes, early darkness and we needed mom or dad to drive us to see you.

We moved in the spring of 1975. I was in the 5th grade and due to turn 11 in just a few days. I had the first slumber party on your floor in the living room. There were probably 10 girls in a circle giggling and happy.

I remember when our family grew. Hearing the news of our new baby around your kitchen table. What a conversation THAT was. After that a "new" bedroom was added downstairs. The baby would be upstairs...Next to ME!!! I was so happy.

I remember listening to the police scanner all the time. Our parents were volunteers in the Fire Dept. and for the Emergency Response Team. I don't recall us having more than 13 channels on our TV - Either cable didn't reach Four Seasons or our parents couldn't afford that luxury...maybe it was both things. So the scanner was entertainment. Plus there were so few houses here at the time. I recall it being us, the Sexton's, Noonan's, Lazar's, Derdowski's, Luke's, Schoon's, and the Blair's. Just a few other houses were nearby too. We kids would play Frisbee or freeze tag out back on the edge of the golf course and it would drive Mr. Blair insane! Mr. Schoon let me fish off his pier or set sail at his house whenever I wanted.

In the summer Tuesday mornings were Junior Golf Days. Everyone took lessons and played. We'd all ride our bikes to the pool most afternoons. What a great community to live in.

I do recall sadness here though too. Lots of fire calls dad would go on - not too many total house fires, but enough. Several emergency runs mom would go on. If they involved a child and she went out at night she was sure to come home and wake me just to hug me and hold me tight. Two incidents I particularly recall involve when a good friend of mine had a 16 year old brother who shot and killed himself - in the mouth right through his head. That was really tough on mom. The second tough run was when a kid we knew got into a really bad motorcycle accident. I can't remember his name now, but I know it was Mike K. He didn't die. He did go through years of recovery. He stayed close to mom and eventually grew up to become an EMT-A himself.

I remember seeing the body of a high-school kid being pulled from the big lake, by the pool. Our parents made a bunch of us watch as a lesson not to swim where we weren't allowed. His body was white and bloated. That imagine along with the feeling of the cold muck that goes between your toes when you step into the lake has been enough to scar me for life. I don't swim in lakes.

I did sail my sailboat on them though. I remember the 4th of July in 1976 sailing with my dad on the big lake. The wind was strong and the boat flipped. I was wearing a preserver, but my dad wasn't. He didn't know how to swim. I was so scared. I lost my glasses and I was worried about my dad. I can't recall if that was before or after I saw the body being pulled from the lake. I do remember my dad and I holding on to the boat and him trying to calm me down. He didn't panic like me. He calmly said, "Lisa, you've done this before. Tell me what we have to do to right the boat." He gave me something else to focus on. He told everyone when we made it back to shore how smart and brave I was.

My emotions are really hard to control as I am writing this. I am mourning your loss dear house... and I know you are just a house...how silly I am. Three minutes until closing starts. I am glad I am not there. I am sitting in the dining room right now. To my right is the extra lot my parents owned. It's lush and green. Tall trees cover it now. Again, it was a bare farm field when we first met. I ate cherries from two trees for breakfast and snacked on super sweet mulberries. It a far cry from the field lot it use to be.

Last night I realized that half of all the people who have ever lived in this house are dead. Dad built you and then 14 years later he died in bed. He was very happy here. And although we lost him here, it has always been a place full of good memories. I got dressed with my bridesmaids in this house. All my pre-wedding pictures were taken here.

I am recalling proms and homecomings, graduations and baby showers, birthdays and holidays, funerals and sad times, tornado storms and winter blizzards. Your walls have remained strong.
You have helped give us the extra strong foundation our family needed. You're the last common, solid thing which binds my siblings and I together.

Mom couldn't die here...your steps were too much for her. But she did get home to take a few last baths here. Thank you house for giving her that simple pleasure.

I know my home is no longer here. I slept for the last time in my old bedroom...with my own children near by.

I miss my mom and dad. I'll miss this old house. But I will cherish every memory I've been given.

Thank you house.