I have some news. Are you sitting down? Okay. Goooood. Now, take a deep breath. Exhale. Slowly. Ready? There is a house on Iten's Acres. Easy, easy there. Yes, Iten's Acres is not just meadows and a pond and zillions of flower beds and trees and an orchard and wild flower areas--there is actually a home on Iten's Acres, and I live in it. I first noticed it, briefly, when my real estate agent brought me here for the first time. And despite that discovery, I bought the place.
Now, originally, there was a metal structure in front of the house for parking your car. Since it blocked the view out the front doors to the acres I sold it. Poor guy that bought the thing not only paid money for it but also had to tear it down himself. By the way, even on the coldest, snowiest, rainiest days, as I scrape my car windows or shovel my car out of a snow drift or get soaked walking (it's against the law to run at Iten's Acres) to my car in a deluge, I don't miss it a bit. It's all about the view. The only creatures who miss the "garage" are the rabbits who use to congregate behind it under the eaves of the house in order to escape the storms. I don't feel sorry for them either--flower nibbling vagrants.
In addition to the house there are three sheds on the property. One has my lawn mower in it. One has my gardening stuff--rakes, shovels, etc. One has junk. I really don't need all three. The mice appreciate them. And the fox squirrels think the wooden one behind the house was built for them to nest in. When I cleaned it out this summer, the floors and shelves had layers of walnut husks. I finally stopped counting the number of buckets of empty walnut shells I hauled out of that place. The other two sheds are metal. Both the wooden one and the metal one farthest from the house have groundhog holes underneath them. Ahhh, the joys of country living, providing free food and shelter for the rodents of this world.
I do spend some time indoors. It's convenient for sleeping, for watching the Cardinals win the World Series, for using my computer, and for reading and writing. And I've been told it beats an outhouse--especially in the winter.
The house itself is a strange shape. (There may be a picture of it on fb in my photographs?) It's actually a converted shed of some sort. There are basically five rooms, unless you count the furnace "room." (I don't.) Then, there would be six rooms. (Again, I love showing off my majestic math skills!) The downstairs has three rooms; the upstairs has two. (There I go again.) Downstairs has the library/bedroom where Mom hangs out. Next to it is a long narrow room that runs the length of the house with a kitchen on one end--the front--and a "living room" on the other. The stairway to the second floor is at the back of this room. Right behind the library/bedroom is the furnace "place" and then right behind that is a little room I use as a TV room. Quite small. The back door enters into this room. I never--well, rarely--use the front doors. The back door is the real entrance to the home. Why not use the front door? It has the two big glass doors. Tons of light. It was--and still is to some extent--my indoor plant place. Mom, of course, has her chair right in front of the doors, but she is immersed in flowers and plants all around her. Not that she minds. She is their Lord Protectorate. "Ike, the lily needs water." "Ike, the Norfolk Pine is drooping. You should water it--a lot." "Ike, the . . ." You get the idea. They've never had so much love.
The library/bedroom is also the only room in the place that I've done anything to improve. (I have put on a new roof and added a new furnace.) The original walls have kind of a Southwestern adobe look. Yuk! The paint is not "smooth." I despise its color and texture. Anyway, I began the attack on the hacienda in the library. (You really didn't think that I wouldn't put a library in my house--no matter how few rooms there were, did you? Shame on you! In time I'll forgive.) My friends convinced me that in order to paint it correctly I needed to sandpaper the walls and make them smooth. Never again. I'm still coughing up paint dust. Anyway, three of the walls are now a creamy white color and the back wall is a deep plum red. There are six (full) bookcases in the room, a hospital bed for Mom, a table and chair for Mom to use for meals, and her viewing chair. Oh, and a chest for her clothes. It's very crowded for now!
The kitchen/living room is still in need of paint and brightening. There is a window over the sink looking out over the Acres. And there are a couple small windows on the outside wall of the house, and one at the foot of the stairs, but it's still too dark for my tastes. Someday, Lord willing, I'll put a huge bay window with a seat in it where the sofa is now. There's only one (full) bookcase in this room--and a table, a couple chests, my computer desk, a chair, and the aforementioned sofa. The kitchen area has the appliances and the washer and dryer. The only other area in here is "The Shrine." It consists of shelves that hold my collection of Pepsi bottles from around the world and a large Pepsi clock that the school gave me when they fell from grace and sold their souls to Coca-Cola. My eyes still well up when I think of the betrayal. No, I cannot forgive.
There is only one small closet downstairs. One. Yes, I'm emphasizing the lack of storage space.
The TV room has three (full) bookcases (got the idea yet?), a couple of chairs, the TV (duh), and two files filled with all my old school stuff. Once I go Home, I assume all that stuff will be relegated to a bonfire. Ahhh well, such is life. Maybe when I get a million dollars, I'll find a vanity press and publish my devotionals and an American Literature book? If books still exist by then, of course.
Upstairs there are two rooms--what used to be the bedroom and the inhouse. And five (full) bookcases. The once-upon-a-time bedroom is now merely an attic. Someday, Lord willing, I'll turn it into an office/second library of sorts. It is a dreadfully dark room. I need to put in a couple of sky lights or dormers or something. In the summer--one of the reasons it is no longer a bedroom--it gets really HOT up here. There's one small window at the top of the stairs that can be opened, but it doesn't create much of a draft.
There is only ONE tiny closet in this room.
The bathroom is bright--two large windows facing South--the front of the abode. But the place is quite dilapidated. The whole thing needs to be gutted and replaced. There is, believe it or not, some decent storage in this room. The room is fairly large as well. But again, everything needs to go, even the floor and lighting. Horrible. For now, it will do. It can still be flushed with success.
Yes, the house is small, but how much room does a chubby old bald guy need anyhow? It's more than enough room for me. No complaints. (Well, the closet thing . . .) But I spend most of my time outdoors anyway walking Iten's Acres. I will be content--even if I never make any updates. I wonder if there's a way to haul dirt into the house and plant some iris. . .
So, when you come to walk Iten's Acres, don't be surprised by the house. It has a patio out front and out back covered with planters to kind of hide its existence. But I confess, I go inside it to sleep and eat. And watch the Cardinals win the World Series--twice since I've moved here! Feel free to just come on in. Wait, wait. Back door, remember? Mom will enjoy chatting with you. You'll have to go back outside to find me.
There are three sheds outside but NO closets.
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