I still dream of living in an old wooden homestead, almost as often as I dream of living in an old stone castle. But with staff, to clean and tidy and maintain and fix and garden for me. But then I do live, a more or less private life, in spite of all I write here, so having lots of people living in close proximity won't be such a good idea.I'm always intrigued by the ingenuity and engineering from yesteryears. This is a series of windows facing the veranda at Oruawharo, a homestead near Takapau, Hawke's Bay, North Island, New Zealand. The bottom panel can be tucked into the wall so the lower part of the window open up as a doorway. Lovely in the summer!
3 comments:
Oh, I just thougt it was your clean house!
These are beautiful pictures.
My house fantasies always run up against servants, too! When I'm reading historical novels, I often wonder how wealthy introverts coped. Must have had to depersonalize them, and beyond that just grit their teeth. I worked as a servant (no other word for it) in college, and felt how much of an invader I was. The woman was a nervous extrovert perfectionist. She didn't seem to mind the constant interaction, which killed me, but I still felt really sorry for her. Her entire private life was taken over by the exigencies of negotiating for various trustworthy people to come into her home do things for money, while telling herself she was mentoring them. It harried her family.
Desiree, I wish!
Trapunto, very interesting story. I don't have money, so I don't have to worry about it, but if I did, I'd get a gardener. A housekeeper would be too invasive, and I'm a control freak, so I think I might rather live with my mess than someone else's tidiness.
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