Tuesday, 9 April 2013


I have a love for old houses. They have so much character and are steeped in history and intrigue. I love the different designs from different eras. The architecture and the angles, stained glass windows and widow's walks. I can imagine sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair, sipping iced tea and watching the world go by.

Yarmouth is a gold mine for my house addiction. Last night, while our daughter was in ballet we took a lovely stroll around town and admired the many mansions from yesteryear.  Many of these homes belonged to Ship's Captains and you can just imagine what tales and stories of the sea await behind these doors.

I love the history that abounds when you walk around the town of Yarmouth. In some places it can feel like time stood still. The trees that border the sidewalks have been there for centuries and their tall branches reach for the sky and create a beautiful canopy over the streets. Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter, it is always different and always stunning.

I would love to one day own a century home, although I think I would need a deep pocket book. In other parts of the country, and even somewhat in Halifax, the old is being replaced with the new, and it seemsto me to be such a shame. When I walk in to a new home, I just don't get the same feeling of awe and excitement. For me personally, new homes lack the imagination and fine detail that the century homes have in abundance. There are no turrets and stained glass. No scary basements and hidden rooms that make the imagination run wild on a dark and stormy night. I love the creaky floors, and steep staircases that disappear in to the attic. What an inspiration for a ghost story or two.

But above all, I love the history. Who lived here before us? What secrets do these walls hold? If only those old walls could speak.

When we moved to Yarmouth we did take in to consideration buying one of the old homes in town. We looked at a few, and even though I fell in love with one of them, we decided that we weren't ready to live in town quite yet. We love to be rural, and appreciate the privacy this affords as well as the space and ability to have chickens, veggie gardens, and free firewood.

Our home is about 35 years old, but still provides a bit of history in its own right. It was built on the land of the original homestead for this area, of which the original barn still exists across the road. It was a cattle ranch back in the day and when I walk through the woods I can still find old fencing and rock piles from that era. My floors creak, much to my delight, and even though we don't have a resident ship captains ghost, I can still feel the whispers of the past when I walk through the woods.

We are so very happy where we live now. It was the perfect decision for us. And what truly makes a house a home is the people inside it. We are creating our own history, and our own tales of adventure and intrigue. And I can surely say, that to whomever follows us in to this place we call home, these walls will have some of their own stories to tell.

                                                                         OUR HOME

1 comment:

  1. Hi, I came here from MBC. Your blog is really interesting! I love old houses too. Your own house is really pretty; mine is about the same age as yours but looks totally different because it's a pueblo-style house. I live in New Mexico and that's common here. I'm subscribing to your blog and looking forward to reading more. If you'd like to stop by my blog, it's at http://thistlebearhome.blogspot.com :)