Well, since Halloween is fast approaching, I thought now might be good time to share a little story about our house with you. Who doesn’t love a good scary story around this time of year?
Once upon a time, back in 1900 when our house was built, it was just a little farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere. It had only the middle tall part, consisting of (what is now) the living room, dining room, front hall, and the 3 upstairs bedrooms, which I think were 2 bedrooms and a loft area at the time. No electricity. No indoor plumbing.
The two additions on either side were added on about 80 years ago and 40 years ago.
Alot of families tend to stay in this area and often they can remember or trace back who has lived where for many generations. We’ve heard quite a few stories about who has lived in our house, or who was born here and what life was like. Some of those stories, I just don’t need to hear.
About 80 years ago, a family was living in the house. At the time, it was fashionable for all the old farmhouses to add on big giant kitchens and the wife of the family wanted one too.
Her husband refused, as husbands do, but eventually she got her way. They started on the big project of adding onto their little farmhouse. It looks like this is the time when they got indoor plumbing and electricity as well. The stairs to the basement were even boarded up and a new back hall leading downstairs was added on. It was a big undertaking, but they got it done.
One day, it was all finished and it was time to move back in. They got settled back into the kitchen, moved their furniture back in. The husband walked in, sat down at the kitchen table…
and died!
Right there!
In the middle of my kitchen! (Where the table should be, but isn’t yet)
It definitely crosses my mind every time I walk over that spot. Someone died right there.
Now we know why that poor old farmer didn’t want that kitchen!
Thanks to my Father-in-law (but not really cause now I’m even more scared to be home alone) for sharing this story with me!
