History…

I’m fascinated by what and who have gone before us. I love reading stories about the past. I always find it interesting how some authors are able to take a character or moment in history and turn it in to a fantastical tale. Some of my favourite novels are historical in nature. I remember reading a pocketbook years ago about a famous criminal who escaped prison and went on the run. Apparently all of his time uncaught is accounted for except two weeks and the author wrote a book using a possible scenario of where he was and what he did during that time. It was anchored by reality with conjecture in the middle. Another series of books I thoroughly enjoy are non-fiction and read like spy novels. I’m on my third book from that particular author and really loving it. It’s a win-win for me with my twin loves of history and reading.

So, why am I going on about it? I think history is interesting, don’t you? It’s not just characters, events, and places. It’s you and me and our parents and grandparents and those that came before them. It’s the towns and cities we grew up in and those where we now live. History is why we do some things and not others.  History often explains why events happen or why a perspective exists. And that in my opinion, is why history should teach us.

I decided to share some of my history or background and let you in on a plan I have for this summer. Who am I? Well, I’m one of two daughters to parents who were very different. My father was not highly educated, loved a good time and a good joke, had lots of friends, and I think would have loved a son but never showed any disappointment in getting two girls. He worked in road construction and could point out the sections of highways that he “built” as we drove along. My mom is highly educated with two bachelor and one master’s degrees. She has always aimed high and worked hard for those goals while attending university throughout our childhood, after putting in a full school year as a teacher. Both my parents taught me to go after whatever I wanted and expect to have to outdo the boys along the way, to get to the top. I got my love of football from my dad and my love of education from my mom. My childhood was great and my memories from that time are almost all happy. Some would say I’m selective with my memory, and I would argue, why not? I choose to learn from the “bad” and celebrate the “good”. [The truth is, I remember plenty of the “less-than-happy” and I choose to push that to the furthest recesses of my mind. It doesn’t do anything positive for me.]

On my mom’s side, I have a grandma who was a pioneer. Her first husband was a trader with the Hudson’s Bay Company, and she was the first white woman to shoot the rapids in northern Manitoba, a survivor after her husband died and left her with three young children, and a poet. She paid my mom’s way through teacher’s college by reading tea leaves! My grandpa, her second husband, was just 16 years old when he boarded a ship and came to Canada from England. I can’t imagine doing anything that courageous at such a young age! He was a mechanic in the Royal Canadian Air Force and by the time I came along, a gentleman farmer. When I was young he still lived in his ancient farmhouse filled with books. He had a great appreciation for the arts and education and passed that on to his children and grandchildren. I still have books given to me by him that I treasure. I like to think I got my love of reading from him.

On my dad’s side, my gram was a huge part of my childhood and remains a part of me still. She was an amazing woman who raised six children without money but with great spirit. When I was a toddler and my sister a baby she would babysit us. My mom told us that she would put us down for afternoon naps in our snowsuits (obviously in wintertime) and open the window. We were pretty healthy kids and I’m sure it was due to that! Her husband had a love of the drink and she, too, survived hard times, like my mom’s mom. I think that’s a story that belongs to most women of that age – it was a time where the woman’s place was in the home and yet, they left their marks. She had a strong group of friends and they were the pillars of our community, in many ways far more than those who had the money and “influence”. I learned so much from her. Her husband, my other grandpa, was a mill worker. He worked hard and I think played hard as well. He lived away from my hometown when I was growing up, so I wasn’t as close to him as I was to my gram. Still, I remember plenty of wonderful times with him. My dad liked to film with an old super 8 camera and we still have a copy of some of those movies, many of which included grandpa. It’s great fun to look back and reminisce.

But why the walk down memory lane? I read something recently about “this generation” not being interested in history and the implication was that we will lose our knowledge of the past if it isn’t remembered and honoured. While I agree there is a risk of loss, I would argue that this generation isn’t all that different from those of the past. As I child, I’m not sure that I spent a lot of time listening and learning from my elders in a conscious manner. You listened and learned, but with some of the arrogance of youth. The truth is, though, we do take that information in and it helps to form us, our opinions and values. I don’t think we’re going to lose our history, although I’ll agree that we have to actively hold on to it. At this time in my life, I find myself appreciating those that went before me even more and it leads me to wonder what secrets this house holds.

I know very little of the history of this old house. I have the reported age and discovered the realtor-stated one addition is actually two. I’ve seen the end of the original structure during the kitchen renovation and was pretty excited. I’ve got a better idea of how the first addition was built and perhaps its use. I have very little information about the second addition which encompasses my living room and loft area. What little I know came from my contractor and his knowledge of wood and construction styles. I’ve decided to find out more. I’ll use the resources from the land registry, the historical society in the village and the internet to find out who lived here and when. I’d like to piece together a picture of the time in which the house was built and what the people did and how they may have contributed to the early life of the village. It’s work that my mom has asked to help with and a project that I think will be fun for us both. Here’s to a summer (or more) of historic learning!

This is the end of the original house. It was uncovered in the renovation when the contractor had to run plumbing and electrical for the new sink. The house is approximately 167 years old - these boards are in amazing shape, even considering they were covered when the first addition was put on.

This is one of the stone foundation walls in the basement. Incredible to think how strong and sturdy it has been holding up the house.

The currently yellow stairs (and oh, how I look forward to changing that!) on the left are in the original house. They’re crooked and worn and I wasn’t sure how I would ever comfortable on them. Nowadays both the dog and I run and up and down without a thought, although that is unconfirmed on the dog’s side. On the right hand side are the very crazy stairs that lead to the loft and attic. The loft is above the second addition and the attic above the first. We believe the stairs align with the building of the first addition and were perhaps exterior to the addition. Looking forward to finding out more this summer.

This is the inside of the exterior wall of the first addition to the house. Can you see the doorway? It’s hard to make out but the white above the door is old wallpaper! By the time I moved in this was covered with wall and cabinets - we put in fresh insulation after the electrical and plumbing was complete. There were no structural changes made during the kitchen renovation so I’m very grateful to have learned as much as I did about the house itself.

This is the ceiling of the second addition, the living room. As you can see one of the beams is significantly older than the ceiling. I’m looking forward to finding out when this was built.