Small Town, Old Structures

 Little town ten miles up the road, site of our luncheon meeting.  The town may be small, but the church in which we met is a very large building, very nice.

And directly across the street from the sanctuary entrance is this quaint building, the original purpose of which I am unaware.  It's current purpose is to provide background, or ambience, or to serve as community eyesore, depending on your point of view.  Even the basketball hoop is disused.  I dare say a ball has not dropped through that rim in a generation.

Around the corner and a half block north is this fabulous old structure.  BBBH riding shotgun exclaimed, "Oh, that is my kind of house."  I knew this.  She is enamored of gingerbread and wrap-around porches.  The first, I claim, is a pain because maintenance (scraping, painting) is much too intensive.  The second is inefficient, roofing so much of the outdoors.

Given its lines my mind's eye pictures the magnificence of this place in its prime.

Like the old house, I am not what I once was.

Another Glorious Old House

This marvelous edifice is, as the real estate agent would say, centrally located.  The house is one and one half blocks from the post office and the movie theater, two blocks from the courthouse, and two and one half blocks to the bank.  It is a tad over one block to the grocery store.  Ideal.

Some quarter century ago, this house was owned by an individual who was undertaking to restore it to its original glory.  It was the second such house in the neighborhood that she had undertaken to renovate.  My phone rang one evening.  "Mr. L," the voice said, this is Donna.  As you know, I own a property downtown that I am restoring."  True enough.  I knew this.  "David," she said, I would really like for you to have that house, and I would sell it to you at a very reasonable and fair price."  And what, I wondered, might that be?

"Truthfully," she told me, "I have invested"... and here she inserted a very large dollar amount... "into that house and I am not done yet.  But I know that you could finish it off and you would enjoy it so much."

And I knew that there was no way I could undertake the project.  I couldn't even pay her what she had into it.  I told her so.  She could not understand "no" and persisted in trying to persuade me to change my response.  Which I did not do.

At a later date, she sold the house to my physician who basically closed off the upper floors and moved her offices into the main floor of the house.  Here she practiced medicine for several years, and thus I had the pleasure of visiting the house on occasion.

Last summer the doctor moved her offices to a medical center near the hospital and put the old house on the market.  I never so much as enquired of the asking price.

I believe it recently sold.  I hope someone gets the pleasure and enjoyment from it that Donna thought I might get, all those years ago.

Although "Donna" passed several years ago, I have given her an alias for this story.

A particularly peculiar feature of this tale is that I scarcely knew the woman.  I knew

who she was, of course, everyone did.  I may have met her once at some function, I

don't really recall.

The Unpainted Lady

Half-mile west sits this elderly lady.  Unlike the old dame that I pictured last fall in accompaniment to a little verse, this building, while naked and without makeup,* is still occupied.   She is still loved, still someone's home.  But she is high-maintenance.  Perhaps heating and lighting consume the budget.  Makeup and frills are just not in the cards.

*My Daddy used to tell me, when I was barely out of knee-pants, "A little putty and a little paint makes a girl look like what she ain't."  Probably applies to old houses, too.

Old Silos

 Sharkbytes discovered a very interesting steel silo which she shared with us here.  

There is a wonderful old vitrified tile silo four miles from our house.  It is all that remains of an abandoned barn lot. The silo sits on the boundary between a soybean field and an old woods.

We drive by this location often, and BBBH and I have had some interesting conversations about a dream of building a home on this spot and incorporating the silo into our new digs.  I'll not rehearse the silliness of our "plans" but I will say that we have come up with some great ideas!

Less than a mile due south of the tile structure is the farm of a dear friend of ours.  This old banded stave silo sits about an hundred yards from the house.  There are numerous modern structures between the house and the silo.  I am sure that Little Jo Ann could have told us the history of this silo, but she passed away this summer.  As many times as we visited this farm, it never occurred to me to ask about that.

Go visit Sharkey's silo.

(Apologies for the photography.  These pictures were taken within five minutes of each other, but I had to shoot into the sun on the first one.)

Beautifying the World

Jørn Oberg Utzon, Danish architect, created many wonderful works, at least one of which everyone in the civilized world has seen, if not in its physical presence, then in a pictorial representation.

Mr. Utzon was born in 1918 and died in 2008 at age 90.

Cathedral Visit

Yesterday we visited the Cathedral Church of Saint Paul, Episcopal, in downtown Detroit.

On display in the vestibule is this sketch of the cathedral as it will appear when completed.  The tower is not yet finished.

Our docent was my brother-in-law, Bob Prout who is a very active member of this congregation.  He built this model with Legos.

BBBH is awe-stricken as Bob draws her attention to one of the innumerable marvels in the building.

This icon dates to the sixteenth century.

Historic Prophetstown, the House

I found the house and its furnishings to be quite fascinating.  Everything is maintained in style and furnishings ala 1920.  The house is a Sears product, and was listed in the 1919 Sears, Roebuck and Company catalogue at $3141.

 I included this framed print which makes me think of Grandmother on the Colorado high plains.  Style is derivative of Grant Wood, but I don't know the artist.

 When I was a child we had a wood-burning kitchen range exactly like this one, only different.  Ours was entirely black rather than the fancy-schmancy enamel job seen here.  The galvanized tub was set on the kitchen floor on Saturday night.  Baths for all, whether needed or not.  Also about five of our houses would have fit inside this one house.

 The telephone is bolted to the kitchen wall.  No one ever said, "Dial my number; I can't find my phone."

 This beautiful copper washing machine is double-action, both swirling the clothes around and stomping up and down.  This machine was patented in 1909, and it is believed that this one was built in 1917.  It is electric, and it works!  I saw it with my own eyes.

 I thought this clothes hanger made for a couple of interesting snapshots.

 Uncle Ben and Aunt Fern had an identical separator in their milk room.  Hand-cranked.

Walked past the wagon with hardly a glance; but then I did a double-take, stepped back a few steps and snapped the picture.

Fun Excursion

A little excursion on a lovely fall-like afternoon took us a few miles from home.  Driving through this small city, on impulse* we parked right in front of City Hall.  Yes, those are our vehicles.  And you want to know why BBBH and I would take an afternoon ride and drive separate cars?  Well, it was a pleasure trip, you know.

I walked a couple blocks to the east while BBBH prowled a pair of antique/used merchandise/junk stores.  There are some fine houses in this burg.  The bungalow has long been a favorite of mine, and this is a prime example.  Close to a spiritual resource center, too.

This one is gorgeous, but almost too much.  Imagine the pride of the owner at the turn of the twentieth century.  Imagine the pride of the current owner!

My architectural knowledge is limited, but I can almost picture in my mind's eye the bungalow that this once was.  The traditional porch has been completely enclosed and the entry hidden on the other side of the house.  The weird twin dormer effect is interesting, if not exactly California-style.

A block west of city hall we find the public library.  Jim Davis apparently got here ahead of us.  The mini-derrick is another clue as to location.

And finally on an old building right behind the location of our autos I spotted this old unmaintained, unrestored, and practically gone sign.  The camera actually picked up the lettering with greater clarity than did my eye.  Now you know where we spent the afternoon!

And yes, BBBH bought stuff.  But that's another story.

*Truth:  We knew the shops were directly across the street.

A Leading Industry in Perfect

5000 people, five banks

Sunday Post on Tuesday

Sylvia and Chuck's church is just one mile down their Secondary Road.  So Sunday morning we went down that road and met a number of very friendly and interesting people.  One elderly lady (meaning someone of my age) revealed that she had a sister who lived in Marion.  I told her we had a daughter and a grandson in Marion.  Turns out her sister attends the same church the grandson and his wife attend.

Interesting conversation with the Pastor as we sipped coffee before the service.  Though he had never met him, he knew who my father was.  Pastor Mark's first charge was in Pennville, Indiana, a village where I had applied for a teaching job over fifty years ago, which is to say we shared some geography, for he had lived in Eaton, I in Muncie.  Well, at different times; Mark is a generation younger than I.

The Sunday School lesson revolved around the death of King Saul, a topic I had dealt with briefly on the blog this past winter.  Fascinating discussion.

Pastor Mark's sermon was titled "Heaven: A Gated Community."  He read John's description of heaven as recorded in the Revelation.  He pointed out that we are given very little about heaven by way of description.  He posed the question, Why are we given such sketchy information?  His answer was this, which I found interesting.  We are told so little lest we make an idol of heaven and worship it instead of focusing our worship on God.

Conclusion: Wherever God is is Heaven.  We are not concerned about the architecture of Heaven when we are in the presence of God!

Following the service, we had our farewell luncheon with our hosts at the local Chinese eatery.  Very tasty comestibles, followed by an easy and uneventful drive home.

Another Wordless Wednesday

Jefferson at Independence

 Southwest corner

 Northwest corner

Northeast corner

Southeast corner

Green at Washington

Southwest corner

Northwest corner

Northeast corner

Southeast corner

Guess who I thought of when I saw this bumper sticker yesterday.

Jefferson at West

 Southwest corner

You will likely find us here, Tuesdays 6:30 to 7:55

and Sundays about noon.

 Northwest corner

If you are of the Presbyterian persuasion, you will

worship here.  And you will beat the rest of us to

the southwest corner.

 Northeast corner

The brick building behind the crabapple trees houses

the general offices of the company that owns and operates

the restaurant kittywampus, as well as many others.

 Southeast corner

See the yellow tape around the pumps?  See the pickup trucks by the doors?

Note that the signage is blank, no prices, no gas.

Bob and LuAnne Conaway have served us faithfully on this corner for more

than thirty years.  Now they will enjoy retirement, which is richly deserved,

but their cheerful, efficient and reliable service will be sorely missed.

I can't go on with this wordless Wednesday thing; I can neither keep my mouth shut,

nor can I keep my fingers off the keyboard.  Live with it.

Happy birthday to Joe Torre, born July 18, 1940.   Torre quote: 

"When we lost, I couldn't sleep at night. When we win, I can't sleep at night. But when you win, you wake up feeling better."   (...and you thought Casey Stengel had all the bases covered.)

Almost Wordless Wednesday, Architecture

Adams at Independence

 Southwest corner

 Northwest corner

 Northeast corner

Southeast corner

BREAKING THE "WORDLESS" FEATURE.  MY SISTER AND BROTHER-IN-LAW HAVE BEEN ORDERED TO EVACUATE THEIR HOME IN COLORADO SPRINGS.  PRAY FOR COLORADO AND THOSE WHO HAVE LOST THEIR HOMES, AND FOR THOSE WHOSE HOMES ARE THREATENED.