That little house used to sit on the land that our house sits on now. It belonged to the family that sold this land to the father of the man we bought our house from. They lived in that house with…get this…eight children!
Now the owner of this house wanted to get rid of the house but his brother, who lived next door, wanted it. So he jacked it up and put it on some tree logs and rolled it over to his property. The father split the land, see?
They thought the house would come apart. It still had red mud between the wood beams (called “chinking”), at that time. But it stayed together.
The brother built the rock fireplace and the stove, to go with the house…and he’s got the inside all decorated with period pieces. They’ve had a couple of weddings there…with a fire going and all. It’s extremely quaint.
I am going to take some pics of the inside, too, and show them to you the first chance I get. But this is a a start. And a vivid reminder, how hard times were not that long ago. Eight kids in a tiny house like that. My husband said they had better things to do, than tweet.
I suspect he’s right. He grew up playing in the woods. I don’t think he was ever bored.