No, Really. I enjoyed myself immensely. Not everyone would enjoy having people–some known, some unknown–coming through their home for seven hours a day, looking around, commenting on everything in sight, wondering about what’s not in sight, asking questions about stuff that had been answered back when they hadn’t been listening. But I’m not everyone, and I had a fine time.
The frantic rush to get the house ready for viewing (Sounds like a phrase to be used for an open-casket funeral) was successful; the place looked like it was being lived in by a relatively civilized individual and not some band of impecunious grifters–it was pretty clean, thanks to the efforts of my fearless cleaning contractor, who must have been as amazed as I at the results achieved. I will say that there are probably papers which I will never see again, since they disappeared into the bags, boxes and piles of things stashed in the attic, the basement or the garage. I’m just hoping that none of my bills to be paid will be lost forever…or until overdue.
I did worry for awhile that there really wasn’t much serious DECORATING being done around the house, especially since my chief decorator and decor critic is no longer here, but then I figured out that in this house, I am the decoration, for the most part…and my volunteer helpers/explainers.
The house is a 1927 Craftsman-style bungalow, built partly from pieces/parts of a barn that met its end to provide materials for construction. I still have barn beams downstairs (Though Porter Construction replaced some of them with steel beams a while ago, the removals are still available down under the porch.). The people who have lived here over the years probably would have thought that anything beyond a wreath on the door was just a tad “uppity”. I believe in respecting the house and its people and the “slice of life” which they represent. We strive for simplicity here. Or maybe we’re just simple. The folks who worked here did a fine job of learning the shpiels of background and information in each room, even adding a few twists and fillips to keep things interesting here and there (I told ‘em to make up a good answer for anything they did not know.). Some information appeals to one group, some other stories about other things would pique the interest of somebody else. You never know.
Lots of people asked about the cats. Some wanted to see them but were disappointed when I revealed that none of the local felines are associated with the Welcome Wagon organization; they’re all pretty ticked that I had “new people” or any people at all, for that matter, to come into their territory–the house, the porch, the yard, whatever. They all made themselves scarce for most of the day, every day. The Porch Kitties abandoned the kitty condos during the day but came back at night and to get breakfast in the morning. The indoor clowder of cats took off for the attic or the basement. Luckily, they also have largely ignored the Christmas trees, the pine roping draped across things, even the toy train and its track under one of the trees. They have–so far–also done no major damage to the dining room set-up ( I did see evidence that someone had made a stab at climbing for an inspection there but gave it up.). The porch kitties evidently found other places to dine and drink, since once the crowds started coming up on the porch, not a PK (for Porch Kitty, not Preacher’s Kid, as they are sometimes referred to in clergy circles) was in evidence for the entire day; maybe they went across the street–tsk, tsk–to play with Garfield and Fluffy. Nobody has seen the raccoon which has taken to washing his food in the PK’s water dish either.
My brother and sister-in-law got to wing in from New Mexico to experience the Christmas Walk; said they had never seen anything like it but enjoyed the experience. Got to have lunch at the Methodist Church, got to tour the open house on Maple Ave., got to see the town in fine fettle (whatever that means) and good weather…which may be coming to an end, but it was a great run, for an autumn we will not soon forget. Looking forward to another weekend of it but then, thank heaven, things will be done for another two years. Doing this every year would be just insane. Besides, sooner or later, the not-so-good weather will hit and the going-through-other-people’s-houses will not be as much fun–carpets and booties, you know. We can find some other excitement somewhere, maybe the arrival of Santa & Mrs. Claus on the firetruck by the clock tower…or the yard-decorating around town (Take down your goblins and skeletons and gravestones; get out the sleighs and chimneys and reindeer, and wrapped packages and all that stuff–with lights.)
Which reminds me…start thinking about the Rotary Christmas Gift Delivery on December 23, elves and all. It’s a tradition. It’s Christmas in Garrettsville. Ho Ho Ho !!!
