Happy New Year

Wishing you a happy new year. Here's a picture of the last sunset of the year here in Albufeira, Portugal.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas to everyone.

Holiday Inn, 1942

Let's give thanks for...

Let's give thanks for... FOOD! Thank goodness for the things brought from America. Food would be very boring without them.

Here are somethings I learned from the Native American Encyclopedia:
'Native American food for many American Indian tribes consisted of many fruits and vegetables that they would grow, and also from deer and other animals that they would hunt. A few of the vegetables that were present among most Native American food are things like corn, squash, and beans, which are referred to as the three sisters.'

Apparently, the three sisters are maize, squash and beans and they were planted close together. The maize stalks would serve as support for the beans and the squash, which would spread along the ground around the other two, would prevent weeds from popping up. Together, these three would provide a balanced diet for Native Americans.

From the Woodland Indian Educational Program we learn:

 and:

I don't know about you, but I'm feeling a little hungry right about now....

Muertos...

Dia de los Muertos

A day late, I know...

Beware of witches...

A dark Cave. In the middle, a Caldron boiling. Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

FIRST WITCH:  Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd. 
SECOND WITCH:  Thrice and once, the hedge-pig whin'd. 
THIRD WITCH:  Harpier cries:—'tis time! 'tis time! 
FIRST WITCH:  Round about the caldron go;
    In the poison'd entrails throw.—
    Toad, that under cold stone,
    Days and nights has thirty-one;
    Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
    Boil thou first i' the charmed pot! 
ALL:  Double, double toil and trouble;
    Fire burn, and caldron bubble. 
SECOND WITCH:  Fillet of a fenny snake,
    In the caldron boil and bake;
    Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
    Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
    Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
    Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,—
    For a charm of powerful trouble,
    Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
ALL:  Double, double toil and trouble;
    Fire burn, and caldron bubble. 
THIRD WITCH:  Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf;
    Witches' mummy; maw and gulf
    Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark;
    Root of hemlock digg'd in the dark;
    Liver of blaspheming Jew;
    Gall of goat, and slips of yew
    Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse;
    Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips;
    Finger of birth-strangled babe
    Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,—
    Make the gruel thick and slab:
    Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
    For the ingredients of our caldron. 
ALL:  Double, double toil and trouble;
    Fire burn, and caldron bubble. 
SECOND WITCH:  Cool it with a baboon's blood,
    Then the charm is firm and good. 

William Shakespeare, MacBeth, act IV, scene 1

Creole? In North America?

Around here, creole is a dialect spoken by people from Cape Verde. I hear it daily, since there are so many of them here, although I don't get a word... well, most of the words.
I knew that African descendents in Louisiana are called Creoles, and sort of assumed that this designation extended to certain aspects of French colonial culture (Louisiana was once upon a time a French colony), but I didn't realise that it also applied to a certain type of architecture. So I searched and found several interesting examples of the creole style. I was surprised to see how different creole houses could be, ranging from plain to stunning, and/or tiny to huge...

2 and 4 bay creole cottages 

     4 and 2 bay creole cottages

Creole townhouses

Creole cottage and house

Creole plantation houses

Exit signs

Well, that road sign did turn out to be for me. My usual exit, times two this year. Pretty good considering I expected not to leave the road to nowhere this year. Unfortunately, it's been keeping me extremely busy and very stuck to reality. But I'll come back to my dream land, you just wait and see. There's only so much reality one can take....
And speaking of escaping reality, here's  something weird...

On and on... about a shack

Years ago, back in Germany, I used to stop everything to watch this video whenever it came on. What really appealed to me, although I like the song, was the video itself. What an interesting little house that was, and by the way, what was it? I only found out years later... But first, the video:

Now, there's nothing glamorous about the house. It's just a shack, probably like many in the South and the video has that 'Colour Purple' feel to it, which means we're definitely not looking at the lifestyles of the rich and pointless. But seeing as it was just a video, I kinda dismissed the shack as being nothing more than a set.
Years later, while looking for typical New Orleans houses, I came across a floor plan that reminded me of the video. In fact, it could almost have been the floor plan of that shack: four rooms connecting directly to each other, no hallways. This is nothing new. I knew that for many centuries houses did not have hallways, people would just go from room to room, going about their business. Early American houses, and we're talking 17th century here, were no exception to the rule. In fact, rooms tended to have multiple functions, depending on the time of day.

Parlour by day                                         Bedroom by night

If you wanted privacy, well, just pull the curtains! Why do you think beds had posts?

Four poster bed                                         Box beds               

So, the privacy issue was no real surprise, although I was a little surprised at how much more recent our notions of privacy are than I actually thought. It's just that after researching these old houses up north, it was interesting to see how different they were down south! Mostly because of climate. Up north, small, closed off rooms tended to preserve heat in the cold winter months. Down south, interconnected rooms allowed better ventilation in the hot summer months. So, this particular style of house developed in the South: two rows of several interconnected rooms and porches outside, which were almost like an extra room. It's called Creole style and the shack in Badu's video seems to be in that style.

Something silly...

Here's something silly...
It's a funny post, and it's a great song too...

Road sign up ahead!!!

OH MY GOD!! A ROAD SIGN!!! Is it for me? I think it's for me!!! Fingers crossed...

The road not travelled... by me

This video reminds me of the road I should be travelling by now but am not... I like the song, though.

Colours...

Colours by Schöner Wohnen:

It must have great bones...

It must have great bones to have survived all this time in one piece... more or less. At the time of the Historic American Buildings Survey in 1953, the house had been empty for a while and was in poor shape: the roof was sagging, the wood was in bad condition and the maple tree at the back of the house was not doing it any favours. The roots were messing with the foundation and the low branches scraping the roof probably weren't helping either. You can see some of the problems in early 20th century pictures of the house and in the survey's photos:

Early 20th century postcard and Historical American Buildings Survey photo

In the postcard you can see the roof sagging and in the 1950s photo, the maple tree had practically engulfed the house. Fortunately, it has since been restaured and it now looks as pretty as a picture.
And speaking of pictures, I found a lot of them from the outside, but none showing the interior. The only clue I have about that is from the survey's drawings. See everything here: http://www.loc.gov/pictures/collection/hh/item/ma0323/. The survey's floor plan can be a little confusing because of all the details, so I made a cleaner version:

Inside Auld Lang Syne

The kitchen and lean-to walls were unfinished and had no ceilings, you could see straight to the roof. It had no staircase, but a ladder leading to the attic space. And I take it that by the time of the survey, the partition wall was gone. I don't know which parts of the house were the original 17th century shack. Unfortunately, I don't have access to the recommended literature about the development of the house. Shame... I would really like to know.

WARNING: entering Dreamland!!
Obviously, I imagined what it would be like to live in this little cottage. So, imagining that the cottage would be as in the survey's floor plan, it would have to be slightly modified (nothing that couldn't be undone) to fit basic modern life. The kitchen and lean-to walls would have to be finished in the same way as the rest of the house. A ceiling could be installed, but since the kitchen is so small, it could use the height to give it a sense of space, so... no ceiling. The old partition wall would have to go back up and a second wall would be built, dividing the new big room into two. The problem here is that one of the chambers would have no window, but unless you'd be willing to mess with the house's structure and install one, you' just have to use lamps. The doors separating the living room and the kitchen from the tiny hallway would be removed, opening up the space a bit and allowing more light in the kitchen. The dorrs would be reused in the new chambers. Some basic plumbing and wiring later, the cottage would look like this:

An hypothetical floor plan of Auld Lang Syne

Now, it's a tiny cottage, so you'd have to be careful when decorating it. I suppose the best way to go would be to opt for simplicity: simple furniture and light colours. Here are some ideas:

And some details: beachy wall art, some colourful pillows, your beach treasures, of course, candle holders with a nautical feel, and a bold shower curtain to liven the bathroom. Just a suggestion...

There, I'm done dessecrating Auld Lang Syne. It's just a day dream anyway, no harm done...

A place of great bones...

'A place of great bones'... apparently it's what Siasconset means in Wampanoag Algonquian. I suppose it's a reference to whaling, which appears to have been an activity with a long tradition on Nantucket island. The island itself was called Canopache by the Wampanoags, which means 'a place of peace'. As for the current name, it might mean far away land, but it's not certain.

Why am talking about this? Well, because I'm still stuck on Nantucket, so to speak, and on a little house in particular. As I said before, my introduction to Nantucket was through this little fishing cottage known as Auld Lang Syne. I just love this little cottage! 

It's the oldest house on the Siasconset bank and it's considered the oldest structure on the island. It was built around 1675, but not necessarily where it stands now. It is thought that it was first built in Sesachacha, about mile and a half north of Sconset.

Siasconset and Sesachacha pond, where Auld Lang Syne was presumably first built.

The cottage started out as a rough fishing shack, a rectangular structure divided in three: a great hall and two chambers. At this stage, it probably had no proper floor, windows or fireplace, and the walls were just rough board. The first owner, Micah Coffin, used it as his fishing headquarters.While native servants went out to fish, he would stay on shore to cook. The shack served as shelter from the weather and storage.

As time went by, the shack suffered many alterations: floors were laid, walls plastered, windows installed, fireplaces built and lean-tos added. Eventually, it became the cottage that is known today.

Just as a curiosity, here are some maps of Sconset with Auld Lang Syne in them:

Siasconset, 1797. 

Auld Lang Syne could be any of the shacks on the right. It would have been known as the Capt. Henry Coleman house, who lived there many years at the end of the 18th century.

Siasconset, 1835. Here as Auld Lang Syne.

Siasconset, 1858. Here as the Coleman house.

Siasconset, 1881.

Siasconset, 2012.

These maps, except Google's, were found here: http://www.nha.org/digitalexhibits/sconset02564/index.html. 

Dream on...

enough said...

Lovely Savannah

The movie is Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, with John Cusack and Kevin Spacey. The book is by John Berendt. The location is Savannah, Georgia. The house is Mercer House, where Jim Williams DID live, and his assistant WAS killed, and where Jim Williams DID die, but NOT in the same spot as his assistant, as the story goes. Story also goes that it's haunted. I don't know...

I thought the house was lovely and it made take a closer look at this town. The historic district is packed full of lovely old houses, like these:

And lovely squares and gardens, like these:

And, if you're still stuck on the 'haunted' thing, there's Bonaventure Cemetery, which is also haunted:

The Bird Girl statue used to be there, but it gained a lot of popularity after being the cover of the book and it was since removed to the Telfair Museum of Art to avoid mishaps. But moving on...
Some years after seeing the movie, while searching for old houses on the net, I came across this old floor plan of a post American Civil War house that put me in mind of the Savannah houses. Here's the drawing:

Nothing in the drawing or the description of the house links it to Savannah in particular, it's just a fancy of mine. There were probably many similar houses throughout the South, but for some reason, I looked at that porch and thought 'Savannah'. It could be, just look at the pictures above.
Apparently, the house was built in 1868 for a mechanic with means, but it doesn't say where. I only assume it's in the South because it's called a Civil War Reconstruction Home (and the South did undergo a major reconstruction effort after the war) and it's part of this catalogue:

Inside, it would have looked like this:

And, of course, in my mind I immediatly started wondering how it would be like to live in it...