Section 2.1 : Our Ivy-Covered Farmhouse

Our Farmhouse was a square, two-story, red brick house with a slate roof. Imbedded on the roof of the house was the year they built it. I remember it as late 1880s, but I’m not sure of the exact date. One distinguishing feature of the house, the ivy-covered walls, covered at least three-fourths of the exterior of the house. 

At twilight, hundreds of sparrows nested in the lush green vines. Fluttering to their favorite spots to settle down for the night. The noise loud as they all jostled and fought for their rightful place in the ivy. Cats would be close-by hoping that they could catch an unwary bird.

A separate one-car garage right next the small pump-house provided drinking water for the family. A large enclosed back porch provided a place for the water heater, washer, and freezer, and a place for muddy boots and work clothes.

The large brick house faced the road about 50 ft away and had a gravel driveway leading to the garage on the right. At the top the six steps in the front, you found yourself on a large cement front porch. The front door of the house in the middle and a porch swing hanging from the ceiling on the right. Facing out into the yard two large maple trees and our mailbox near the road.

Passing through the front door you found yourself in the living room and on the left you could see the large arched opening to the dining room. Mom and Dad loved going to farm and household auctions. At one of these auctions, they bought an impressive oak dining room set. The set had a large table with two leaf extensions for when company came, a tall china cabinet, and a buffet. The set had intricate carved details and large legs. Mother’s upright piano sat in the dining room and it had cut-outs with red fabric behind them on the upper part of the piano. We had many wonderful times around the piano when Dad asked all to sing for him some hymns. Anna would sing soprano, Mother tenor, Becky alto, and I would sing bass.

My sister, Anna, took piano lessons for many years. Becky took lessons, but she said she stopped when “They took the numbers away from the notes”. I had taken guitar lessons instead of the piano. Becky and I both regretted not continuing with the piano lessons. Mrs. Zent, Anna’s piano teacher came to the house to give the lessons. Anna still plays the piano at her home and also at her church.

One door lead from the living room to the kitchen. Another, from the dining room. Mother boasted when she got new kitchen cabinets from a cabinet maker. She also wallpapered the walls with a lovely ivy pattern. She dedicated her heart and soul into caring for her home and family.

Mother would have a bird cage in one corner of the kitchen for her yellow canary “Tweety”. The tiny yellow fluff would trill its heart out whenever Anna or Mother would play the piano. The notes would go higher as the piano rose higher and go lower as the song dipped lower. They would cover Tweety at night with a handmade bird-cage cover that Mother had made so it could sleep. 

Caged birds need to have their toenails trimmed, so Mother would do this when his nails got too long. One time she cut-off too much and the poor little thing bled to death. It devastated mother, and she took a long time before she got another canary.

The southwest side of the kitchen, one small bathroom. It had one of those accordion-style doors with a flimsy lock. This made the bathroom less private than we would have liked. South of the kitchen was the enclosed back porch. There was a huge old freezer for all the home-grown vegetables and meat we had processed. East of the kitchen was Mom and Dad’s downstairs bedroom which also had a door to the living room.

Between the kitchen and my parent’s bedroom was the door to the stairway leading down to the basement. My sister, Becky, describes the basement as “A dark, damp, creepy place, with ugly brown spiders and centipedes that would make their way upstairs; magically appearing and frightening one half to death”. I say’s not a bad thing, since spiders kept the sisters away. Dad and I could get away from the “women-folk”. A few spiders can’t hurt nobody, right?

The basement held the wood and coal furnace that my Dad and I had to keep stoked in the winter. It was also the place where Dad kept his beloved jig-saw. My Dad and I loved to spend hours making wooden toys and plaques. We both still ended up with all ten fingers. It wasn’t like the hand jig-saws they have now, it sat on a table and is more like they would call a band saw now. Since the basement stayed cool, it was the place to keep all the “Ball” canning jars of green beans, tomatoes, peaches, and all kinds of other fruits and vegetables.

Right in the center of the house a large, metal grate connected the basement furnace to the living room and provided heat for the whole house. This was the only source of heat so it stayed warm in the center of the house and the farther away from that register you were in the house, the colder it became.

My sister, Becky’s upstairs room was above this large furnace grate so her room was always warmer than the other bedrooms upstairs. This caused jealousy for my sister Anna and myself. Anna told me the story of when our family first arrived at the house and Becky was the fastest runner and she went upstairs and picked out that room for herself.

The stairway leading to the second story was in the living room. My bedroom was at the top of the stairs on the right. My two sisters, Anna and Becky, had their rooms down the hall. The fourth bedroom was just used for storage.

A small access room off of the hallway on the second floor allowed access to the slate roof with a vertical ladder and a hatch on top of the house. It also functioned as an additional storage space. I remember my Dad having his arrow-head collection there in an old metal container and large five-gallon drums of thick, black, sorghum from the farm. My mother would use the sorghum to make her famous “Popcorn balls” and my Dad would apply a thick, generous coating of the sorghum on bread to make a sandwich.