"Image courtesy of www.PicturesNow.com"
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Grandma's House of Many Rooms
The house from the outside belied the space
that was therein. The outside front showed a two-storey brick
with two one-step-up large verandahs. Each had a door.
The door on the left led to a hall where
the stairs went to the second floor or to the left, through a
door, was the parlour. Grandma's bedroom was off the parlour,
but that will come later.
The door on the right verandah led right
into the large country kitchen. The kitchen was almost a house-of-its-own
to me, with a long table that would easily sit twenty or more;
another table (that I considered large) was a work table; a high
corner cabinet held dishes; a high-backed cushioned chair against
the wall; a sewing machine; my grandma's rocker; a comfy couch
where my uncle napped at noon; the gigantic woodstove with reservoir
at one side that was kept filled for hot water; a rack behind
the stove that held coats; and the much-used sink with a pump
that I found so utterly out-of-this-world. Why did city-folk have
taps when there were pumps! It needed priming and I loved to be
of assistance doing that whenever I was near. There was always
a pail of freshly-drawn well-water nearby, a dipper on the side,
and I did not think anything about everyone using that same dipper
to drink from.
The kitchen also led to a 'pantry' through
a door by the work table. That is where the baking was done and
held all of the staples.
Also, in the kitchen, just outsied the
pantry was what was called the 'dumb waiter'. You couldn't see
it - just a handle in the floor that could be pulled up, revealing
something like a large bookshelf. When something was needed from
the dirt cellar, where things were kept cold in a huge bed of
ice-blocks, surrounded by straw for insulation, a designated person
was sent down to the basement via an outside door; they put the
butter, cream, milk, or what was needed on the shelves, gave a
shout, and someone in the kitchen would pull up the dumb waiter
which, I guess, ran on pulleys.
Oh, how I wished that I lived at the farm
always! There were limitless wonders that were beyond my young
imagination.
The door at the back of the kitchen led
to the back shed, where wood was kept; the dog had old blankets
to sleep on out there - and yes - that is where the "seperator"
was. It stood on an oil-cloth-covered table and the older girls
had the chore, after milking times, of separating the cream from
the milk and washing the large apparatus and keeping it clean
so that it glistened.
The parlour, to me, was always very dark
but scrumptiously-cool on a hot day. We children were only allowed
in there to sit quietly on such days. Old, framed pictures of
ancestors and different documents of family history hung on the
walls. The big pump organ was what I loved and sometimes my cousin
would play her self-taught, by-ear music for me. There was a pot-belly
stove in the parlour and chairs for us to sit on but I cannot
remember a sofa, but then - I was always looking at my grandmother's
bedroom that was just off the parlour.
In Grandma's room was an old mantle clock
(another story of its own) that chimed, every hour, the correct
number of times for that hour. How I loved that clock. Like any
little girl away from home, there were some nights when I would
awaken in the night and be a little frightened - until I heard
my grandmother's clock in the room below. It was as if it was
talking to me and how I loved to listen.
Well now, where are we?
At the top of the long, steep stairs was
a huge square landing, twice as big as my living room is today.
The stove pipe ran up through the floor and in one corner was
a double bed that served my other uncle who stayed here for a
few years before building his own house.
Off this 'landing', which could be called
a room, were four others - one so long and big it made my heart
race; off it - was another, which was called "the truck room",
another word for storage of junk; but how precious the things
in that truck room - beyond belief and would, today, be worth
a fortune.
The bedrooms in those days held the dearly-beloved
china wash basins and pitchers, and of course, under each bed
was a matching china chamber with a handle. You only see them
in antique stores, today. I used to think they were ever-so-beautiful.
That probably gives you my child's-eye
view of Grandma's wonderful house.
Notice that no bathroom was mentioned.
Baths were taken in a large and deep, copper-colour kettle (for
the lack of knowing what else to call it.) It was placed behind
the stove and the water was added from the resevoir of the stove.
It really wasn't a deep bath, but fit the need.
A toilet was not to be seen in the house.
Outside, in the back yard, a path made from many feet, led from
the back shed to the "out-house" - that is what it was
called. It was made of wood, like the tiniest shed that we know
of today. Inside the door were two holes in a seat, like a bench;
one was large for a grown-up and the other was small for us little
folk. The only other furnishings were a bucket of ashes from the
woodstove, which, I eventually learned why it was there; and there
was the big Eaton's catalogue. Since it was all torn and ragged,
I suppose there is no need to tell you of the service it performed.
(I remember being tempted to take a page from the children's clothing
section. It would have made such fun cut-out dolls, if you have
ever heard of them.)
There was no light in the out-house, so,
just before bed (we retired early at the farm so we could rise
with the rooster) everyone walked the beaten path. After all -
those china conveniences were far too pretty to think of anything
but the beautiful rose patterns on them. ~Joan Adams Burchell~
(copyright)
