The other day, the Fireman and I went on a (very small) great adventure to his parents house. There’s nothing new about that…it’s that I finally remembered to bring my camera this time.
The Fireman’s parents live in a GINORMOUS (yes, it is a word despite what your teachers told you) old farmhouse that his great grandparents used to own. About 50 years ago, there were gas pumps that sat out front and their garage served as a small convenience store. Then it burned, and his parents rebuilt it in the 70’s. The attic beams are still charred. The house is connected to the barn, and the first things that you see after walking out of the kitchen (other than the old outhouse) are the cattle stalls. The barn is huge and I absolutely love it. It smells like old manure, cows that have been gone for years, and fresh hay above in the hay loft. I love rummaging around in there; some of the stuff I have found is insane.
I’m sure you remember these photos of the house. It’s crazy to see how much the weather can change here day to day.
They’ve got an old apple tree, and after all the apples fall to the ground, they gather them in baskets and leave them out for the deer to nibble on. The deer will walk right up to the house and eat straight out of the baskets (when no one’s watching, of course).
To me, everything about this house screams, “New England! Fresh pot pies inside! Come have a cup of coffee and watch the cows!” Okay, that may have been a little abuse of the exclamation points, but you see where I’m coming from!! (Again with the punctuation. It’s okay, I know that I have a problem.)