The Cape part 1
Sep. 27th, 2010 11:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
averygoodun42I'm honestly not sure if I've mentioned how much I love quirky, old houses. The quirkier, the better. I mean, I would be awed and impressed by Malfoy Manor, but unless I found and accessed some hidden passages, ala "The Blameless Vestal's Lot", I would quickly become bored. The Burrow, on the other hand, would fascinated me.
The house we stayed at this weekend was more Burrow-style, i.e. really quite quirky, fairly old - though not ancient - and not at all grand. Built around 1840, it's obviously had at least one, probably two additions in the last 170 years. It was an old, family house.
We stepped inside through the kitchen door Friday night, and I was immediately was hit by the smell of mildew. Old, beach cellars, you know. It was late and we were tired, so we were shown upstairs to choose our rooms. There were a lot to choose from. We went from the north end to the south, and finally ended up with the rooms directly above the kitchen, Geoff and I in the one at the end of the house (windows on three walls), and Babe across the stairwell landing. The very steep, very tiny and very not-straight stairwell.
Beds made and Babe down, we each had a cup of herbal tea, chatted a little bit and then crashed.
Next day, we saw the river shining at us through the remains of the night's fog. The house is - at most - fifty feet from the water. I opened all the windows I could in our part of the house, including the one over the stairwell, and then we started the day.
Our host asked what we wanted to do after I'd had time to look through the guide books he'd put out, and as I skimmed through it, something caught my eye: The Edward Gorey House! Edward Gorey had a house on the Cape! And it was CLOSE! O.M.G! I don't often turn into a fangirl (takes too much precious energy), but I literally bounced when I saw that. So, we went.
It was a small house, and there wasn't all that much to see, but what there was to see was interesting. I think we all spent as much time in the small gift shop oohing and aahing over various goodies (a Gorey Lunchbox!!!) as we did looking through his sketchbooks and odd knick-knacks.
(The links to the scrapbook seem to be broken. I'll try to fix later, but right now I need to just step away from it. Before I harm my innocent computer.)
So, that made me happy. We had also gone on a short nature walk a few blocks over and that was nice, but nothing special.
We then went back, had lunch and rested for the rest of the afternoon. Mostly on the screened porch overlooking the water. Babe entertained himself either drawing lighthouses (we hadn't seen a real one yet, but there was a large model of one near the living room that he was taken with) or playing legos. Geoff and I read. Our host napped. It was wonderful.
That night during dinner (I cooked: red cabbage and onions seasoned with garam masala and balsamic vinegar, sauteed zucchini, summer squash, onions, garlic and mushrooms, mashed sweet potatoes and salad, while Geoff cooked the steaks) our host asked Babe what he liked best about the house. Babe ignored him. After a little conversational wandering, I repeated the question. Babe ignored me. The host moved on to ask us grown-ups what we liked best about the house. Just after Geoff finished (the porch and the wood-paneled room atop the second staircase), Babe had to go to the bathroom. When all the adults were back at the table, I told our host that Babe was scared of the house. He'd admitted it to me earlier in the day, while the sun was shining into his room. He'd attributed it to all the different angles of the roof, though that seemed more like a tangible excuse for intangible unease.
Our host was not surprised by Babe's fear. Turns out, the house is haunted.
He told a tale about how when his sister's friend first came over, she had asked who the older lady who'd been sitting in the living room was. Host and Sister said, "Um...?" and asked her to describe the woman. The description fit their grandmother. Seems she haunts the living room. The one room I found myself avoiding, even though it was rather central and light.
Host was going to go on about the other paranormal activity in the house (with the teaser that Babe's room was the most disturbed) when Babe was ready to come back. We talked about other things from then on. Unfortunately, I didn't get any further information after Babe had gone to bed, but we will eventually. Host has suggested that we all (including the rest of the group who was invited but couldn't make it) try again in the spring. I have no idea how some of the others will like the house, but I'm completely on board with the suggestion.
Sunday will be a separate post. (Photo post is here.)
The house we stayed at this weekend was more Burrow-style, i.e. really quite quirky, fairly old - though not ancient - and not at all grand. Built around 1840, it's obviously had at least one, probably two additions in the last 170 years. It was an old, family house.
We stepped inside through the kitchen door Friday night, and I was immediately was hit by the smell of mildew. Old, beach cellars, you know. It was late and we were tired, so we were shown upstairs to choose our rooms. There were a lot to choose from. We went from the north end to the south, and finally ended up with the rooms directly above the kitchen, Geoff and I in the one at the end of the house (windows on three walls), and Babe across the stairwell landing. The very steep, very tiny and very not-straight stairwell.
Beds made and Babe down, we each had a cup of herbal tea, chatted a little bit and then crashed.
Next day, we saw the river shining at us through the remains of the night's fog. The house is - at most - fifty feet from the water. I opened all the windows I could in our part of the house, including the one over the stairwell, and then we started the day.
Our host asked what we wanted to do after I'd had time to look through the guide books he'd put out, and as I skimmed through it, something caught my eye: The Edward Gorey House! Edward Gorey had a house on the Cape! And it was CLOSE! O.M.G! I don't often turn into a fangirl (takes too much precious energy), but I literally bounced when I saw that. So, we went.
It was a small house, and there wasn't all that much to see, but what there was to see was interesting. I think we all spent as much time in the small gift shop oohing and aahing over various goodies (a Gorey Lunchbox!!!) as we did looking through his sketchbooks and odd knick-knacks.
(The links to the scrapbook seem to be broken. I'll try to fix later, but right now I need to just step away from it. Before I harm my innocent computer.)
So, that made me happy. We had also gone on a short nature walk a few blocks over and that was nice, but nothing special.
We then went back, had lunch and rested for the rest of the afternoon. Mostly on the screened porch overlooking the water. Babe entertained himself either drawing lighthouses (we hadn't seen a real one yet, but there was a large model of one near the living room that he was taken with) or playing legos. Geoff and I read. Our host napped. It was wonderful.
That night during dinner (I cooked: red cabbage and onions seasoned with garam masala and balsamic vinegar, sauteed zucchini, summer squash, onions, garlic and mushrooms, mashed sweet potatoes and salad, while Geoff cooked the steaks) our host asked Babe what he liked best about the house. Babe ignored him. After a little conversational wandering, I repeated the question. Babe ignored me. The host moved on to ask us grown-ups what we liked best about the house. Just after Geoff finished (the porch and the wood-paneled room atop the second staircase), Babe had to go to the bathroom. When all the adults were back at the table, I told our host that Babe was scared of the house. He'd admitted it to me earlier in the day, while the sun was shining into his room. He'd attributed it to all the different angles of the roof, though that seemed more like a tangible excuse for intangible unease.
Our host was not surprised by Babe's fear. Turns out, the house is haunted.
He told a tale about how when his sister's friend first came over, she had asked who the older lady who'd been sitting in the living room was. Host and Sister said, "Um...?" and asked her to describe the woman. The description fit their grandmother. Seems she haunts the living room. The one room I found myself avoiding, even though it was rather central and light.
Host was going to go on about the other paranormal activity in the house (with the teaser that Babe's room was the most disturbed) when Babe was ready to come back. We talked about other things from then on. Unfortunately, I didn't get any further information after Babe had gone to bed, but we will eventually. Host has suggested that we all (including the rest of the group who was invited but couldn't make it) try again in the spring. I have no idea how some of the others will like the house, but I'm completely on board with the suggestion.
Sunday will be a separate post. (Photo post is here.)
