now what?

Screeching noise…not like car tires; it was something different. Yes, I distinctly heard metal and glass, and I could tell there was somewhat of  a pancake effect. Another neighbor heard it too and came over to see what was going on in the black of the night. The back of the house next door fell a little more last night—another part now sits on the ground. It was quite a shift. I can’t even explain how much moved. What you see in this photo used to be about 20 feet from where it is now. I have written about the house before in another post or two. Part of it falls now and then.on-the-ground-house-falling-down

This was once an immigrant’s mansion, a family I have researched somewhat for my history blog.  I wish I could buy it from the folks who own it now. They only cut the weeds and weed trees once a year. It would be nice to afford a dumpster, too…to clear all this mess away. Maybe some of the stuff from this place could go in it, too. It would take a bit of money to restore that house (and this) , but it would be worthwhile. Both still have some good years left in them, though it would be hard to tell right now.

Each time part of the building next door falls, it just brings it back home that I no longer live in the suburbs where grass is cross cut and life was more tidy. The house I live in here is falling apart, too, just not to the extent that the one next door has deteriorated.

I was sitting on the kitchen floor the other day, going through a few boxes of papers that were basically dumped in a disorganized mess the last time I found moldy boxes in the basement. This is still an issue.  A number of boxes have been needing my attention, to re-organize or get rid of contents.  Going through one of the boxes I found a few things I haven’t seen in awhile, such as reminders as to why my second husband and I divorced, a transcript of sealed divorce records, stupid stuff.  I found a lot of stuff I could throw away…I will use it as fire fodder. That seven-year purge cycle gives me an opportunity to get rid of IRS records;  it’s been that long since I had an income so all previous income records went bye-bye.

I also found the real estate sheets and photo of a house I once lived in (in Cincinnati) the one the kids remember the most with their father (husband number 1). No, I don’t collect husbands. rambling-backyardThe house was only 4 years old when we purchased it, and we lived there about 11 years before moving. There was little landscaping when we moved in, which I remedied soon after moving in, planting at least 40 trees, lots of azaleas and other shrubbery and perennials. It was lovely in the spring and fall leaf colors were brilliant. It was an easy-care , quiet cul-de-sac house.

Like many people I had a junk drawer and the end of the kitchen counter was predisposed to school papers and calendars, but the house was generally neat and clean and tidy, even with three kids. Life used to be more scenic in and around the house. Nowadays, I am surrounded by things falling apart. 

As I sat on the floor in the kitchen, which is 70’s tile broken and discolored so bad I recently covered part of it with a twenty-dollar room-sized rug from Lowe’s, I looked at the photos and wondered how I could have gone from such lovely surroundings to where I am. I picked up the camera and took a photo of the ceiling overhead, just over the stove area. Blech! It isn’t exactly my dream kitchen. The ducky border must be from the 70’s, too. It goes with the dark paneling. I have painted some cabinets and may get around to painting the paneling when the money tree shares again, but the ceiling, well…

The ceiling tiles fall occasionally, revealing stained ceiling papers, lath and plaster. Plaster can fall at any time. I could never have people over here; something might fall on their head. I only stopped having rain come in this past summer. I have some open shelving and pots on the wall, but everything has to be cleaned before use after it has been put away. Nothing stays clean. I’ve never seen an environment like this. I’ve kind of given up on that which has been beyond my control. Hard to believe sometimes.

Hard to believe I used to entertain; family holidays were usually at my house. Lots of fun and joyful noises, but not anymore. I sure could go for a cup of normal again some day. For now, the pictures of what once was will have to do.

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