Off-topic from normal 'pets' fare, but.. (dial-up warning)

[IrishAyes]

35. Popular Page!

I showed it to some friends, and we're all agreed that whatever your present profession might be, you could always fall back on home design for a living if the need or wish ever came about.

But you know what blesses me the most? Seeing a couple happily tackle such a herculean task together. Bodes well for your mutual future.

I've had my nose buried in Architectural Digest and home design books and magazines almost since I could read. For retirement I chose a tiny town in the affordable MidWest although I knew the culture shock would be tough. I wanted a place as far north as I could afford, and upper elevation to guard against flood. The town seems to enjoy some protection from tornadoes, probably due to surrounding topography. Tornadoes bear straight down on us and then typically veer off just before barreling through. So far!

But I wouldn't have moved here at all, really, except for winning a hundred-year-old Vic with 'good bones' at auction for $16,500. Those two qualities were about all it had going for it, but I love antiques and challenges. The first 7 years it gobbled up at least another $50K in the first round of complete rehab, and I estimate around $20K more over the years until it's finished. But it will be worth the effort and expense when done. If the housing market's doing well when I die, the charity I've willed it to should see a tidy bequest since I stick to cash and the Amish.

Only after living here several years did I learn one of the main reasons to preserve the place, though. Because I'm blessed with a complete paper trail on the property, I knew the house itself was built around a log cabin erected in 1847. But now I know that original structure was a slave cabin. The grandest house in town is now a museum, and when I took the tour early on, the docent was railing about what happened during an early Civil War battle here.

"That damnYankee captain rode his horse right through the house! The doctor who owned the place was forced into more modest quarters nearby, and those horrible soldiers made this house their headquarters. But when they left, the first thing the doctor did was to have the oak floors refinished, and you can't even see the horses' hoofmarks anymore. Right there where you're standing!"

I looked down at the floor and suffered a sudden, severe coughing fit to cover what was really hysterical laughter. Must've done a good job, because the lady took it in such a sympathetic way that she hurried to bring me water. Since I still hadn't been upstairs yet and didn't want to get kicked out, I couldn't tell her how lucky the slave-holding 'good doctor' had been not to have the place burned down when our blessed damnYankee soldiers were through with it.