A walk through Fred and Robyn’s new house in Smallville, Alabama. Note: this is the house as it was when we made the offer on it, not as it is today. We’re in the process of renovating the entire property, and making things the way we want them.
What the house looks like from the street.
The style is called Craftsman, and it was popular in 1935, when the house was built.
For more detail, here’s a big version.
Looking toward the house from about 1/3 of the way out the back yard.
Looking toward the house from the back of the property, which totals about 4.5 acres.
It’s a far cry from the 1/3 acre we have in the suburbs. We call this field “the back forty”, even
though it’s really only about 3.5 acres.
One of my favorite things about the house is all the HUGE trees.
They’re so big it staggers me to stand underneath them and look up
through the boughs.
When we first drove by the house, we fell in love with it from the street. We had no idea what it might be like inside.
Turns out it was even better than we imagined. Let’s go look.
Looking from one end of the front room to the other. This room stretches the entire
width of the house, about 30 feet. Our plan is to turn the end of the room with the stove
into a cozy sitting/reading area, with a braided rug and a couple of recliners facing the heat.
We absolutely love that all the floors in the house are wood (pine and oak), that most of the walls are tongue and groove pine plankes or beadboard, and that all the ceilings are also tongue and groove pine or beadboard.
It has something our suburb house distinctly lacks: character.
The other end, where the HDTV, Dolby Digital sound, and the couches will be.
To the right you can see the entrance to…
…the downstairs hall. Underneath the right wall, in the crawlspace, the support beam
has been spliced, which put a little sag in this part of the house. As a result, the floor here
gently slopes from left to right. It might bother some, but to us it just means “character.”
Note: this picture is actually looking from the far end back into the front room. The door on
the left leads into…
…the master bedroom. This picture is from the far corner, looking out.
The leftmost door is the closet, the other leads back into the hall.
From the other corner. Oddly, this room is floored in oak. Most of the rest
of the house is floored in pine, and the computer room is floored in red maple.
I sure would like to know the story behind all that.
The downstairs bath is catercorner left across the hall from the master bedroom.
Interestingly, the house didn’t have bathrooms until the 50’s, and the tubs in the two
full baths are originals, big cast iron behemoths weighing 600 or more pounds.
Directly across from the master bedroom is the stairway leading upstairs (of all places).
There’s a nice big closet catercorner right across from the master bedroom.
There’s more space around that corner to the left, as well as a small water heater.
The hallway leads into the dining room, probably my favorite room in the house.
No, not because that’s where we eat, but because I LOVE the stained walls, the stained ceiling,
the porthole windows, and the big bubba fireplace. THAT’s a place to put a fire, by God.
Here’s a peek out one of those windows at a massive magnolia in the sideyard.
The kitchen, an open and roomy change from the cramped thing we have now.
That kitchen begs for some country cooking, doesn’t it?
The laundry room is off the kitchen, and is huge. It was once a porch, and
the well is underneath here. On the ceiling, out of the picture, the old iron eyebolt for
lowering the water thingy—
Does anyone know what those are called? At my grandmother’s house in Vinemont, one of the high points of a Sunday was hooking one of these things to a chain and lowering it into the well for water. The device is a long, thin metal cylinder with a push-pull latch at one end. Push it in to close a valve inside when you lower the thing into the well, and pull it out to open the valve and let the water out when you’ve raised it back up. Robyn and I saw one when we went to the Lacon Trade Day last weekend and I told her all about using them, but I’ve no idea what they’re called.
Anyone know what I’m talking about?
—down into the well for water is still there.
We found a visitor in the laundry room, a victim of the poisons set out around the house.
Fortunately, we come with much more natural mouse killers.
This laundry room is big enough for the washer and dryer, as well as a second fridge, deep freeze,
and all the cat supplies and litter boxes. It even has a big utility sink behind the door for washing
all the produce I’ll be bringing in next summer.
Doo, doo, doo, lookin’ out my back door.
The back of the house.
Here’s a big version, if you want to see detail.
The computer room (room of the stair-less door) is off the dining room,
and has a half-bath attached. To the right of the picture you can see part of the
dining room and a hint of the kitchen. Let’s go upstairs.
Over the stairs. Look at that beadboard ceiling and the tongue-and-groove walls.
They don’t make ‘em like this any more. When the home inspector saw all the
tongue-and-groove walls and downstairs ceiling, he said, “Somebody had some money in the 30’s.”
Apparently this sort of quality wasn’t common in the dirt-poor South.
Looking up from the landing.
The staircase is one of my favorite places in the house for a couple of reasons.
First, the smell. It’s indescribable, sort of “old bookstore” meets “grandma’s house.”
It evokes many pleasant feelings in me. Second, the banister and newel post. They’re worn
smooth after 71 years of hands rubbing down them, and their patina makes them glow. It’s hard to
show that in a picture. Here’s a big version, as an attempt.
Note that I have some tread cleaning to do.
What will be the guest bedroom. It looks the worst of all the rooms, but only really needs
to have the mortar chimney sealed (there’s soot coming out), a coat of paint, and some crown molding.
See the soot? The sellers didn’t seal up around the top, and now the soot’s coming back.
Sealer, paint, crown molding, and it should be perfect.
Looking into the guest room from the doorway.
The guest room has a hella nice closet.
This will be the spud’s room. She gets the big upstairs room, which has two closets.
We suspect this still won’t be enough for all her crap.
There’s a piece of calendar stuck to the wall in one of the spud’s closets.
Check out the big version, and take note of the date.
Cool, no?
The upstairs bath. You can see a bit of the cast iron tub I mentioned before.
Also, that medicine cabinet over the sink is original to the 50’s when the bathroom was put in.
What will be my room, after a lot of sanding and paint. We’re going to be taking all the
carpet out of the upstairs, so the house will have 100% hardwood floors.
My closet, which is nearly big enough to be another room.
Finally, looking down the upstairs hall from the doorway of my room. Now, one final stop…
This is the inside of the original shed/garage for the house, built in 1935.
It smells JUST like Grandpa Fred’s shed, where I spent plenty of time as a kid, watching
my grandfather do everything from sharpen tractor blades to cleaning rabbits he shot in the garden.
Part of the shed has been converted into a workshop. I have grand plans for
things I’ll be doing in here.