Et in arcadia ego.....
Well, I won't be able to do justice to what I have learned today.
I went for my 11.30am appointment with No 12. I did not emerge from there until 1.15pm. In fact, my husband came to look for me around 12.50, thinking I had been abducted!
The people who inhabit number 12 have lived in the house for the last 60 years and told me fascinating stories about the people who lived in my terrace years ago. The site belonged to Huntroyed Estate (centuries old estate & hunting lodge). It was an orchard. The houses were built in the 1890s and each was done to the particular spec of the buyers. Some have cellars, some attics, some both. Some originally had bathrooms, other didn't want them. He said every house was different.
Mr & Mrs "No 12" told me about this eccentric next door neighbour who never cleaned up after the death of her mother, and who was married to an inventor who wore clogs and a bowler hat and walked to his workshop everyday. The furniture in their house had been built especially for the house and was really beautiful. She had 4 very clever children, one of them ending up a renowned expert on the Romantic Poets. The neighbour let her back yard grow wild and it was like a jungle but occasionally she would go out with her kitchen scissors and snip at the greenery. It didn't make a scrap of difference. She made life difficult for her husband and shrieked at him all day (and the children). When he died though, she visited his grave everyday and wailed by it for hours.
Mr & Mrs "No 12" also told me of two "maiden" sisters who lived on the terrace. They were very genteel. One had been a teacher but then "enjoyed" bad health (she took to her bed), the other was interested in the fine things in life and wore rouge and kiss curls and ordered "modish" magazines. One sister lived upstairs, the other downstairs and they didn't speak a word to each other! The upstairs sister was a hypochondriach and used to watch out for the doctor (who lived in the massive Arts & Crafts house opposite - now an Italian Restaurant). The doctor used to go to great lengths to avoid her, leaving the back way etc... The sisters house was powered by gas, by which I mean gas lamps etc. When North Sea Gas came in, they were pestered by people trying to update them. One day, a hand-written notice appeared on their door "PLEASE NOTE, WE DO NOT WANT THE NEW GAS", when the new gas arrived it meant they had no gas at all and they used candles for lighting. This caused a fire in the house. I can't go all through the tale but suffice it to say that the fire caused great upheaval in their lives. When the house was finally cleared following the death of one of the sisters, a great discovery was made in the front downstairs room. Boxes and boxes of gorgeous clothes dating from the preceding decades. The "downstairs" "modish" sister had made a habit of ordering beautiful clothes - the boxes had all been opened but the clothes were still in their tissue paper, seemingly unworn.
There are more tales but this is supposed to be a photography blog not a local history blog.
Talking of local history, my immediate next door neighbour (one of only two neighbours I had spoken to before this project) has just dropped around to give me a local history book of our town.
Last night, I dropped around to my neighbour on the other side - she has given me keys to let myself in and take photos! - oh and she forced me to take a bottle of wine back home with me - she'd just bought a stack back from France.
This project sure is one way of getting to know the neighbours!
I went for my 11.30am appointment with No 12. I did not emerge from there until 1.15pm. In fact, my husband came to look for me around 12.50, thinking I had been abducted!
The people who inhabit number 12 have lived in the house for the last 60 years and told me fascinating stories about the people who lived in my terrace years ago. The site belonged to Huntroyed Estate (centuries old estate & hunting lodge). It was an orchard. The houses were built in the 1890s and each was done to the particular spec of the buyers. Some have cellars, some attics, some both. Some originally had bathrooms, other didn't want them. He said every house was different.
Mr & Mrs "No 12" told me about this eccentric next door neighbour who never cleaned up after the death of her mother, and who was married to an inventor who wore clogs and a bowler hat and walked to his workshop everyday. The furniture in their house had been built especially for the house and was really beautiful. She had 4 very clever children, one of them ending up a renowned expert on the Romantic Poets. The neighbour let her back yard grow wild and it was like a jungle but occasionally she would go out with her kitchen scissors and snip at the greenery. It didn't make a scrap of difference. She made life difficult for her husband and shrieked at him all day (and the children). When he died though, she visited his grave everyday and wailed by it for hours.
Mr & Mrs "No 12" also told me of two "maiden" sisters who lived on the terrace. They were very genteel. One had been a teacher but then "enjoyed" bad health (she took to her bed), the other was interested in the fine things in life and wore rouge and kiss curls and ordered "modish" magazines. One sister lived upstairs, the other downstairs and they didn't speak a word to each other! The upstairs sister was a hypochondriach and used to watch out for the doctor (who lived in the massive Arts & Crafts house opposite - now an Italian Restaurant). The doctor used to go to great lengths to avoid her, leaving the back way etc... The sisters house was powered by gas, by which I mean gas lamps etc. When North Sea Gas came in, they were pestered by people trying to update them. One day, a hand-written notice appeared on their door "PLEASE NOTE, WE DO NOT WANT THE NEW GAS", when the new gas arrived it meant they had no gas at all and they used candles for lighting. This caused a fire in the house. I can't go all through the tale but suffice it to say that the fire caused great upheaval in their lives. When the house was finally cleared following the death of one of the sisters, a great discovery was made in the front downstairs room. Boxes and boxes of gorgeous clothes dating from the preceding decades. The "downstairs" "modish" sister had made a habit of ordering beautiful clothes - the boxes had all been opened but the clothes were still in their tissue paper, seemingly unworn.
There are more tales but this is supposed to be a photography blog not a local history blog.
Talking of local history, my immediate next door neighbour (one of only two neighbours I had spoken to before this project) has just dropped around to give me a local history book of our town.
Last night, I dropped around to my neighbour on the other side - she has given me keys to let myself in and take photos! - oh and she forced me to take a bottle of wine back home with me - she'd just bought a stack back from France.
This project sure is one way of getting to know the neighbours!
posted by Jane at
19:32
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