3. A Fine Mess

Upon entering the house, we found layers upon layers peeling, disintegrating into fine dusty mists from every surface. I had to wear a mask inside—these asthmatic lungs were not handling it well. But, those patterns...those colors! The woman who had lived here before she passed had an elegant aesthetic, even if the house seemed to be crumbling around her. The woodwork was in great shape, with original doors and built-in cupboards. We were saving all of this.

But first, we had to clean out the clutter and that was no small task. Every room of the 3,500-square-foot house was filled with magazines, books, paper, dishes, Christmas memorabilia, and furniture. The attic—a great lofted space with hand-hewn Spanish elm rafters—was stacked with cardboard boxes disintegrating into the eaves which held bird nests that were still in use. Holes large enough for a small dog to fit through gaped through the worn-out wooden siding.

The basement was even rougher, with the original well still accessible behind a clammy wooden door. The stone foundation had held up well, though, after all these years. You could walk through most of the basement without hitting your head, and the cellar for canned food storage was intact. Carved rectangular sections in the foundation walls revealed the age of the house (we believe it is circa 1840s). These were iceboxes before refrigerators existed.

Someone who helped us clear out the contents of the house was a history buff, and pointed out that the angled window wells in the foundation were common in the 1800s. They were used as hidey holes to fight Indians as the settlers crept westward, stealing their land. The angles of the stone were just so, to keep a rifle nestled against it and provide cover.

Every room in the house was full of mysterious dirt-laden objects and hidden treasures. Tim and I were in town that first summer a few times, and sometimes we were able to bring the boys. We would return to our Cottage from periodic treasure-hunting expeditions covered with fine black dust from head to toe.

There was so much to do, and living in Texas was going to make progress slow. As much as we sifted through the contents, we'd find yet another box or hidden garbage bags full of objects that sometimes proved to be well worth the hunt. Next up, I'll show you some of those treasures we found that were buried for decades.

Thanks for reading!
~Julie