home tour
We recently finished the renovation of the office building I work in. It's a 100+ year old home that up until a year ago, was just sitting there, full of potential. Buried just beneath the cracking plaster and commercial-grade carpet was a beautiful story waiting to be told. We moved our offices into the home, and lovingly restored one room at a time. When recently asked to join in the local historical home tour, we decided to hurriedly finish the remaining rooms and prepare for today.
(Since this picture was taken, the front lawn and shrubbery has been completely re-landscaped. Some of you have seen this picture already. Also take note of the one visible window in the house next door, it will be mentioned later in this post).
I worked today for 8 hours, on a Saturday... On my feet... With no chance to break for food. I told the story of the downstairs renovation from peeling up the carpet to shining up the original hardwood pocket doors, no less than 30 times. We had a steady flow of people all day, and were unofficially named 'Best in Show.'
When we moved in, we found an undated black and white picture of the house that the previous owners had left behind. Jeannine (my boss) had it custom framed and hung it near the entry. One older lady that was touring made me smile as she cleared her throat, looking at the old photograph of our building. She pointed to the first level window of the neighboring home near the edge of the photograph and said, 'That used to be my bedroom. Every night the lady who lived in this house would bake pies and I would lay in my bed as the scent wafted over, tempting me. Some Sunday evenings I would even be invited to partake.'
The home itself was originally built by a man who worked for a chair company located here. Over the years it also served as a boarding house. Several rooms on the second floor have letters on the doors signifying how each room had been rented individually.
The tour went smoothly and was a success, but even now my tired feet, voice and sleepy eyes are begging me to give them a break. Thankfully I get to take Monday off.
I think it is a unique blessing to be part of a community that is so historic in nature, and to be able to work in an office that really feels more like a living room.
(Since this picture was taken, the front lawn and shrubbery has been completely re-landscaped. Some of you have seen this picture already. Also take note of the one visible window in the house next door, it will be mentioned later in this post).
I worked today for 8 hours, on a Saturday... On my feet... With no chance to break for food. I told the story of the downstairs renovation from peeling up the carpet to shining up the original hardwood pocket doors, no less than 30 times. We had a steady flow of people all day, and were unofficially named 'Best in Show.'
When we moved in, we found an undated black and white picture of the house that the previous owners had left behind. Jeannine (my boss) had it custom framed and hung it near the entry. One older lady that was touring made me smile as she cleared her throat, looking at the old photograph of our building. She pointed to the first level window of the neighboring home near the edge of the photograph and said, 'That used to be my bedroom. Every night the lady who lived in this house would bake pies and I would lay in my bed as the scent wafted over, tempting me. Some Sunday evenings I would even be invited to partake.'
The home itself was originally built by a man who worked for a chair company located here. Over the years it also served as a boarding house. Several rooms on the second floor have letters on the doors signifying how each room had been rented individually.
The tour went smoothly and was a success, but even now my tired feet, voice and sleepy eyes are begging me to give them a break. Thankfully I get to take Monday off.
I think it is a unique blessing to be part of a community that is so historic in nature, and to be able to work in an office that really feels more like a living room.
posted by Amber | 7:16 PM
1 Comments:
can I be 9 years old and say that the word "wafted" should only be used to describe flatulance...ok, got that outta the way...
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