Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Tended and un[in]tended, part 2

It's funny as I go through my photos from my trip to Georgia in May, there's a pattern of objects or spaces that have been either worked on, forgotten about, or reclaimed. First, a few shots from my mom and El Seebeno's farm, aka the Happy Kitten Farm.

A weigh ticket, perhaps having fallen out of El Seebeno's pocket while wandering around the yard.

The foundation of the old barn, about 30 or so yards from the house. Mom and Seebeno tore it down as it began falling in, and the wood from it is still stacked in place.

A window and some of the wood from the barn.

A power/phone pole outside the house at the Happy Kitten Farm. One of Mom's feed-me-Seymour rose bushes has taken it over.

Mom's old 1977 Celica, resting comfortably in the side yard.

Later in the weekend, Kitty and I wandered around Small Town and found this house, originally built in the 1880s. It has 2500 sf and five bedrooms...and is in foreclosure for less than $250,000.

A beautiful grande dame, suddenly neglected and hiding behind overgrown landscaping and shrouded in dust and cobwebs. This house felt like the architectural representation of the title character in Faulkner's A Rose for Emily.


Miss Kitty said...

The pictures turned out so well! YAYZ! Indeed, it's a little like Miss Emily's house (even though this one doesn't have cupolas or spires):
It was a big, squarish frame house that had once been white, decorated with cupolas and spires and scrolled balconies in the heavily lightsome style of the seventies, set on what had once been our most select street. But garages and cotton gins had encroached and obliterated even the august names of that neighborhood; only Miss Emily's house was left, lifting its stubborn and coquettish decay above the cotton wagons and the gasoline pumps—an eyesore among eyesores. And now Miss Emily had gone to join the representatives of those august names where they lay in the cedar-bemused cemetery among the ranked and anonymous graves of Union and Confederate soldiers who fell at the battle of Jefferson.

BTW, the huge old house is 3,990 s.f., and is going for $239,900.

[Exit KITTY--weeping, wailing, gnashing teeth]

Miss Kitty said...

[Enter KITTY--still weeping somewhat.]

Rly sry, had to add moar kthx.

14 rooms total...5 bed/4 bath. Front rooms have 12' ceilings with the original tall-ass pocket doors to match...original mahogany mantel in one room, with fancy Victorian tile around fireplace (looks original). Kitchen is modern, up-to-date, open floor plan, BAD ASS.

I'm going to see if the Jaguar Lounge will hire me back.

[Exit KITTY--weeping again, looking for sequined garter]

St. Blogwen said...

Didn't you mean the Celica is rusting comfortable in the side yard? ;-)

That is one fine house. Oy. So sad the owners couldn't hold onto it. Here's hoping there's someone around there to buy it and live in it and love it, so it doesn't became a fabled eyesore.

St. Blogwen said...

Bugger. That's "comfortably." My grammar is slipping horribly. Ai haz uh appalold!!

faded said...

I ma looking at the pictures from Small Town GA. and from Big Town CO. I am impressed by the detail and warmth of the built environment in Small Town, even the parts that are falling down and vacant. I contrast that with the coldness and lack of detail in Big Town. It is clear that the buildings in Big Town were built to serve the dollar. The buildings in Small Town were built to serve the occupants.

Miss Kitty said...

Very well said, Faded.