LAURIE MUSTARD / WINNIPEG FREE PRESS
My good friend Anna took me to see her old farm a couple of weeks ago.
She hadn’t been there recently so was understandably a bit surprised when she opened the door to the very old house, stepped into the kitchen, only to find the roof had rotted and collapsed.
"Hmmm," she said. "This sure isn’t how this looked the last time I was here."
We had approached the house talking about a couple of old cars on the property I’ve offered to help her sell, and hadn’t looked up at the kitchen roof area as we passed it on the way to the door.
Not that she was upset — the house hasn’t been lived in for decades, but the last time she was there the kitchen was still usable in a pinch. Not anymore.
Her mom’s old fridge and stove still sit in the corner, and both probably still work, although they can’t be tested there. The power to the house has been shut off for decades.
Anna tells me the locals went nuts when her dad "electrified" the place. Talking about the squirrels here. They scolded his head off the whole time it was going in, then chewed through it every once in a while just to show who was really in charge.
Betcha every once in a while the odd squirrel got zapped "real good". But hey, a squirrels gotta do what a squirrels gotta’ do.
Neither Anna nor her family ever lived in the old house; it was used more as a retreat. Anna says after she took ownership of the home and property, she’d spend weekends there whenever her schedule allowed and remembers the sound of those squirrels scrambling around in the walls as she drifted off to sleep.
Nothing beats that back-to-nature feel.
That’d freak the heck out of some people, but not us nature lovers.
The dear old house has finally reached that point where it’s no longer salvageable, but still fun to meander through.
The main part of the home, which is two storeys, is still intact and fairly solid but the roof has rotted enough that the water has soaked through into the ceiling and walls, which are now showing mould, the lovely black variety, so there’s just no point in trying to save it.
A sunroom area on the opposite side of the house to the kitchen also has the roof collapsing. But Anna says memories of her parents’ good times there, family get-togethers, and little stuff like her mom’s admiration for the nice kitchen cupboards, just make the decision to take it down a difficult one.
No rush. Still, time to let that coast for a while. She is cleaning up and parting with/selling some of the historical pieces still strewn about the property, the rusty remains of some old farm machinery, clutter in a couple of old sheds, and the part she asked me for help with, the two old cars still there – her 1961 Volkswagen and her Grandpa’s 1949 Chevrolet Fleetline four-door sedan.
I started by dragging the poor old dead Beetle on to my car trailer. It hadn’t moved since about 1980. I brought it home to clean up a bit, only to find I was able to inflate all four tires, and they stayed up, and with a solid push on a wrench, got the engine to turn over, which even has compression.
Such fun. So rewarding. Will make an excellent parts car for someone.
The patient locals have taken back the house, and are the only ones using the nice kitchen cupboards Anna’s Mom liked so much, the evidence of which is a big pile of sunflower seed shells on the counter. Maybe left over from Thanksgiving.
No doubt they are thrilled the power is off for good.
Thanks for the tour, Anna. Loved it.
Comments or feedback, love to hear from you!
lmustard1948@gmail.com
