These postings will center around things that I encounter that are interesting, beautiful, and sometimes the spiritual connection between all these things. This blog is for myself, perhaps more than for you, the reader. It is to remind myself of the passage of time and reflect on the beauty and meaning of the days.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Another Abandoned House
This is what remains of my great grandparents home in Penton, Alabama. It is sad to see it in such shape, but I guess it takes more money and care to repair and sustain a place of this age than anyone in the family has.This was the first brick house (as opposed to brick veneer as we see for the most part now) built in the area.
The garden was to the right in the picture and that is where Joanne planted her annual poppies. She would not allow Ed to plow the garden until late, after most people already had theirs in, because she wanted to keep the poppies till they had finished their bloom. Poppies were not the only thing Joanne wanted to save. She left her Christmas tree up for months after Christmas, till all the needles were on the floor surrounding it. The ornaments hung forlornly to the bare branches. She said it made her sad to take it down and since it was in the living room which was not used much, she just left it, even refusing help to take it down.
Also to the right there was a small decorative fish pool for goldfish. It was not used in my lifetime but I remember it because I was always cautioned to stay clear of it. From the time I first saw it in a state of ruin, I hoped that one day when I visited there would be fish and flowers around it.
To the left in the picture was a smokehouse like everyone used to have, Typically it was used to cure and store pork and home canned goods. Joanne's was completely filled with stuff she was saving. Once I found some white hankies there with embroidery in the corner that said Havana. Some of my great uncles lived in Florida and made excursions to Cuba, which was not closed then. Those uncles smoked stinking (at least to my childish nose) cigars which I am sure came from Cuba. The smokehouse held other oddities that her children had brought back from their travels, but I believe she relegated them to the smokehouse because they smelled of cigar smoke. Even as a small child, I could feel the exotic tropical winds blowing through my heart (when I die, I hope I go to Sanibel)when I looked at those handkerchiefs.
My great granddad Ed was elderly when I remember him. He was mostly bedridden and required assistance to get up and sit in a chair. I was very afraid of him because he had a walking stick which he would use to grab me around the neck and pull me closer to him. Now I see that he just wanted me to come close and talk to him, but it terrified me. He was a religious man and was instrumental in getting the Church of God established at Penton. He had a friend named Mr. Swift and they often discussed religious ideas. One time during a discussion of reincarnation Mr. Swift said he wanted to come back as a water buffalo.While this is amusing in its own right, I am left wondering... Why?
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