All Wet
I’ve found that there’s usually a good and bad to every situation, an upside and downside. The upside to living in The Little House is that there’s little room in the house for anything but daily essentials. The downside is that there’s little room for anything but daily essentials. That brings me to my next good/bad scenario. Remember those holiday decorations we were crawling and climbing all over the metal building looking for one hot day this summer?
Well, the good news is that I found them. The bad news is that I found them at the bottom of a pile of boxes in the basement of The Belle Writer’s Studio, which wouldn’t be bad at all except that the newly poured basement evidently has some water issues. We had the boxes off of the floor, but they were stacked against the wall, that of course, is leaking.
This means humidity and yes, mold all over my decorations.
Welcome to Campbell Town
A photographer came to shoot our house on Friday, as a photo spread of our spread is going to accompany a story I wrote on The Little House for a magazine and we talked about how to present the photos so it isn’t confusing to the readers which building is which.
There are so many buildings here, I think it can be a little confusing to those just trying to picture it, as The Little House looks a lot like The Belle Writer’s Studio and the two metal buildings also look the same.
My husband likes to tell people, “We don’t have the biggest, but we have the most!” I’ve dubbed the drive down the winding driveway, “Campbell Town,” and have even thought of getting some of those old time signs to label the buildings to add a little fun and flavor to the place.
Arachnophobia
The first time we saw one, The Little House was barely framed in.
“What is that on the side of the foundation?” Dale said as we drove into the driveway to have a look at our new home.
“It looks like someone threw a big mud clot,” I answered, but as we got out of the truck and walked closer, we realized it was the biggest spider either of us had ever seen.
I wasn’t terrified, even then, but amazed at really, how beautiful tarantulas are. We had no idea this area had tarantulas, but have since marveled at seeing them in the road and sometimes stumbling upon the holes they dig in the ground for their nests.
Yes, it’s big spider season here again, they’re out and about gathering food for the winter. It just isn’t the tarantulas on the move, but other insects of the 8-legged variety are more prominent outside too, building webs closer to the house and lights where they can catch as many unsuspecting moths and other food as possible.
A Taste of Home
Sometimes I just have to have a little of mom’s home cooking although it isn’t possible to have some of my mother’s dishes made by her hands. I do have some of the recipes that will always be reminiscent of home.
I’m a typical American Heinz 57, 1/8 to ¼ cup of Native American, at least ¼ German with a dash of Irish, Scottish and Patriot (one side traces back to “Mad” Anthony Wayne from the Revolutionary War) thrown in.
When people hear my last name, most people identify me with being at least part Native American, but it is my mother’s German blood that I identify most with culturally. It was at least my great-great grandparents who immigrated to the U.S., but when my mother was born, her paternal family still closely identified with their German roots. My grandfather was a very early union organizer for meat packers in the Back of the Yards area of Chicago’s South side and my mother attended St. Martini’s Lutheran Church and School in the South side’s German community.
