February 26, 2012

•   
  A Wood’s Cove Estate for sale
  but once upon a time…
  My Grandparent’s Home

  
  It’s been over 25 years since I’ve seen this beautiful old house,
  but the memories from my childhood are strong.
  The lush, green driveway leads up to a large parking area with a three car garage.
  I remember my mom washing our cars here, plus playing tether ball and riding our bikes.

  
  A small studio/gym now resides in the place the all-glass green house once stood.
  I dreamed of having my stained glass studio there,
  now it would make an awesome Portrait Studio…alas just a lovely thought.
  The home is now on the market for $4 million!

     
  An original lantern still hangs on the garage
  and the brick ramp up to the house is framed with hedges
  that were growing there when I was born.

  
  The brick patio on top of the garages has always been inviting…
  my grandmother had a grand, swinging couch we loved to play on there.
  And even dimmer memory is my grandfather wearing a white polo shirt and khaki pants
  relaxing in a patio chair and smiling down at me.

  
  The graceful old Pepper tree that used to shade the patio has died,
  but the current owner could not bear to cut it down.

  
  The House.
  Built sometime in the late 20′s with a Mediterranean influence.
  I remember 3 bedrooms with walk in closets, 2 black tiled bathrooms, a cedar closet,
  wood floors and stairs, thick walls and leaded stained glass windows.
  A living room with am impressive fireplace next to a wood-paneled library.
  The entry had a walk through closet for coats and built in desk for the telephone.
  There was a huge formal dinning room and a butler’s pantry with wavy, glass cupboards.
  A cozy, all white kitchen with a red linoleum floor, then a maid’s room and bath.
  And down a steep staircase, the musty, dark, scary basement and furnace.

                              
  Before going in, I wander behind the house and the steep hillside.
  The leaded, amber windows look as beautiful as ever.

     
  Oh dear the back patio has been torn up by tree roots,
  but the back stairs still lead up the hill…

   

    to a new wall?  Once this was our childhood domain, a wild garden of rock bordered paths,
  a tree house (more of a deck) and a rope swing hung from the branch of sweeping Crown Pine.

       
  Now the paths are buried and overgrown,
  barely discernible.

  
   poignant memories tug at my heart

  
  The “front stairs”
  Taken so many times in our youth!
  Down to ride our bikes and up carrying our schoolbooks…
  forgot to mention my parents built a home above my grandparent’s house.
  Our wild garden was been the two houses

   
  The front yard used to be all brick and baby tears,
  I like the grass lawn that has been put in.
   

  
  Another look at the stairs that led to our childhood home…
  those jade plants have always been there!

     
  Walkway to the front entry with more ancient hedges.
  Porch to the right where are grandmother, Maeme, let us store our bikes.

   
  Look at that view AND thick walls!

      
  Original lamp is still in the entry hall,
  my mom kept the one that used to hang in the dinning room.

  
  The dinning/sun room.
  The interior of the house has been extensively remodeled,
  unfortunately with inferior materials and craftsmanship,
  so I won’t be sharing many photos, just the things that remind me of the past.

  
  The only original thing left in the kitchen are the windows,
  they seemed so high up, but then I was a child.
  The memories are all about food, the smell of toast, salt and pepper,
  the roasts and gravy of my German/French cooking grandmother.

      
  Upstairs the stately, classic bathroom are gone…but the views are still marvelous!
  Best of all, the window seats were kept in the large bedroom.

  
  I took these glass knobs for granted,
  now I see them and appreciate how well they were made.

  
  The balcony off the master bedroom…
  when my mom was a young bride, she threw her bouquet from here.

     
  The living room, good bones and well made hardware.
  This room’s strongest memories
  are watching TV with Maeme when she was babysitting us…
  Lawrence Welk, Ed Sullivan and Lassie.

  
  Original cast iron…
  I know how to build a good fire. My grandmother did not,
  her wood smoldered and smoked.
  But to this day, a certain wood smoke will remind me of her home.

  
  The Library, my favorite room in the house because of the view,
  paneling and book shelves. This was also my grandfather, Papa’s home office.
  My memories of him are dim because I was so young when he died…
  just a large, jolly presence in the house and that we were adored.

  
  Furnace Vents

  
  An hour and half have passed…I linger, sharing stories with the realtors.
  I walk down these stone and cement stairs to the driveway.
   
  
  Remnants from the former brick garden patio

  
  So blessed, so grateful for the childhood we were given.
  How good to see it again.

  http://545diamond.com/

  • 9:47 pm
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