92 The Old Farmhouse

The anticipation of a new job and the challenges that it brings were soon put to the test in the next few weeks. The dream of having a job with a steady paycheck had come true, but the reality of making enough to live on while being thus employed failed to materialize. With the school bill to pay off but very few other expenses, it was still a hand to mouth existence because of my extremely low pay. We ate our meals on the coffee table until we could afford to buy a kitchen table. I soon realized that my part time job at the hospital was not a job to enable us to by those dreamed for extras, but was necessary if we were to even survive.

We were fortunate to move into a basic duplex on a slab, which the previous orderly had vacated when I replaced him at the hospital. It was in a low area of town where heavy humidity caused mold and moisture to creep up the walls from the always-wet floor especially under the bed.

A year later we were happy to move into a fifty year old farm house which was not insulated, very drafty and cold, but the floor was dry and without any mould. It did have an oil furnace but the only warm room was in the small kitchen, which was heated by the oil-burning cook stove, which also heated the water.

The winter of sixty-nine was very cold and the long driveway up to the house was impossible to keep clear of snow, not only was that a problem but because the house was not insulated the water kept freezing. This caused the water pipes to over heat and make such a banging and clanging sound that it sounded like the kitchen stove was going to explode and take the kitchen with it.

I can also remember sitting on the sofa in the living room by the huge roaring fireplace, watching TV with the cold wind screaming through the cracks in the walls as it did it’s best to suck us up the chimney.

We lived in the old farmhouse for five years until we had saved enough money for a new house. The old farmhouse did have character and it was with some sadness and many fond memories mixed with anticipation that we finally made the move into our new digs up the street. In spite of all its shortcomings it was still a great old place and Mandy who was raised in it the first four years of her life, cried when it was finally torn down.

Mel Baldwin, our landlord, was a great guy and if it hadn’t been for him letting me work off some of the down payment by making and shaking the roof and painting mine and my neighbor’s house inside, we wouldn’t have qualified for the mortgage.

Life isn’t always easy but the beauty of life is the nice people you meet from time to time that sweeten the road with those little acts of kindness and opportunities to enable you to grow.