The farmhouse was originally constructed with an exterior entryway into every room. Over time and for unknown reasons, many of those doors were simply closed off, boarded up and/or covered over.  One such door was one of two doors on the back porch — the one into the dining room. This weekend the piece of plywood that had been tacked over it for the last several years was removed to reveal a beautiful old door with wavy glass.

When Grandmother was living you would always go to the door on the back porch which was considered the official entry.  If you knocked and she didn’t come to the door, you would walk around to this door (pictured) and tap on the glass. Grandmother would often be in the kitchen, busy preparing a meal or canning beans, and would peak her head around the kitchen door facing to see who had come a’callin’.

I do not remember this door ever being used for entry.  In the dining room, Grandmother had her buffet pushed up against the door and the glass simply looked and was treated like a window.  We plan to clean up the old door and put it back into operation, here in its original setting or in a new location.  (That’s my sister you see silhouetted through the glass, priming windows in the kitchen.)

Another memory is that of the smokehouse. As kids, we used to play in and around the old smokehouse. We’d pull dandelion weeds and dig up moss and ‘tend like we were cooking a meal. We had some of Grandmother’s old flatware and would “cook” on an old rusty wood stove. (I wonder what happened to that old stove and the old flatware.)

In more recent years, the old structure housed quail hatch-lings until they were big enough to be put in a flight pen.  Over the past week, the smokehouse has been swept out and given a bit of a “lift”.  Jack replaced rotting support boards and placed it on concrete blocks to keep it from further deteriorating.

So much to do and so limited as to the amount of time we can spend doing it. I find that I enjoy the time spent trying to salvage the old house and it’s outbuildings. So many memories are contained on its grounds.

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