No discussion of time spent with Gail ever fails somehow to be about her place of residence. Gail has a gift for houses that transcends place or money. All through college her rent was the cheapest, her houses the most spacious and her way of living the most warm of almost anyone I know. I owe her a catalogue of the places I've seen her live since 1990. I don't think the happily squawking baby in the excersaucer next to me is going to let this be it. But here, I'll try.
House 1 - by the highway with Mint Juleps when I first met Gail, she and her husband were living in a graceful narrow farmhouse with their roommate Brian, a narrow biege satin sofa and a taste for parties in which everyone wore white, played croquette and got plastered on mint juleps.
House 2 - 40 acres and Andrew Wyeth A sprawling farm house on a working cattle farm with no heat. Sunsets spent on lawn furniture at the high point of a hill in an open field watching the blaze of glory. Wonderful 60s thriftstore furniture filling the room upon room of house all of which needed strategicly vented wood stoves in order to be habitable. Puppies.
House 3 - Little House By the Creek Another working farm's old farmhouse dependent on woodstoves. This one dependent on the crik not rising as well. Puppies the size of small ponies. Tending to eat frogs out of the creek and fart. Beer bread, split pea soup and warm blankets.
House above a workshop first house lived in with Jeff (I think) and I'm skimming over some time spent living with Bill Wannaburger. Fantastic kitchen paintjob. Stove the size of a Buik. Another crik, but this time with central heat. In town. No cows.
A cabin in the middle of town The first house Gail ever owned was a precivil war hunting cabin - right in the heart of Harrisonburg. When it was built it was undoubtedly in the woods, but 200 plus years later, it's in the middle of town with three additions and an outbuilding.
Posted by karen at September 1, 2003 12:00 AM