Sleeping porch

(Fragent 2)
After about two years [at the sanatorium], when my mother learned how to make a place to sleep outdoors in the cold no matter what the weather, we all went back together again.  Mother had a porch built so that a window of the house opened on the center of the bed.  Early in the evening she would line her bed with hot water bottles and bricks.  She knit herself warm caps and mittens and always made a joke when she went thru the window.  There was a long-haired black hide that went on top, but I never knew the name of it.

Bump in the night

(1931?)
The bedroom windows, like the others [in the Beaumont Avenue house], were casements that opened out.  One night a thump on my bed woke me and, startled, I called Lorin softly.  He found a shoe in the dark, ready to defend himself, before turning on his bedside light.  The monster proved to be a large grey and white house cat who came in from the cold.  I believe we had this cat for some time before taking it to the zoo, where we put it in with many other unwanted cats.

Beaumont Avenue

(1931)
We moved from our flat to a little house on Beaumont Avenue in Whitefish Bay [suburb north of Milwaukee].  ...  That little house was like one in a fairy-tale illustration, with a tower holding the stairs, and the vaulted ceiling in the kitchen.  French farm house style.  It was a sweet little house, but too small, we soon found.

Airless in Antigo

(1930 June)
So now as we turned back from our walk [in Antigo], I thought of my new home [on Oakland Avenue], wondered what it would be like living there, and half wishing I was finding out.  We had left this pretty part of our walk and were crossing the main street to our hotel, walking up the stairs to our room we remarked how airless it was.

First home

(1930 June)
You walked up a flight of stairs [to get to our Oakland Avenue apartment], turned to the right and there was our front (and only) door.  Straight ahead was the coat closet, to the right the bath and bedroom.  But on the right [sic] the living room, dinette, and beyond the small kitchen. Outside, opposite the front door, was a noisy street-car barn, on either side another apartment as close as the law allowed.  In the back, a small yard with a clothesline, always up. Across the hall I found agreeable neighbors, Peggy, getting a divorce, and her mother, always ready for a gossip.

Transition

(1930 June)
I had just wound up a year of school teaching, finishing local and state reports.  Then Lorin came with the car and there was a great moving of all my possessions, clothes and books to my Fond du Lac home.  After a week or so, I was invited to the Kay home [in Milwaukee] to go apartment hunting.  I believe by the time I got there Vina [Lorin's step-mother] had already secured an apartment on the second floor of a two-story building on Oakland Avenue.

Square hall

(1980 memoirs)
Just a minute!  I have forgotten a very important little vestibule-like hall between the living room and dining room.  This four feet by four feet space had four doors; if you are coming from the living room, there is the living room door behind you, the dining room door ahead of you, and on the right the door to the renter's apartment and on the left -- ah, that is the door to the stairs.  And up the stairs is my room.

Pie table

(Memoirs 1980)
Now I'll go on about Frankie's house.  As you came over the porch, level with the street, you entered directly into the living room.  At your right was one of those small ornamental tables.  A Pie Table?  I forget.  But the whole top turned about, in the top of which was a triangular pie-shaped piece on small brass hinges that could open up.  A few inches, probably four, down, was a divided section, exactly the dimensions of the top revolving piece, so that you could open the aperature and spin the top around to the compartment you wished, to get out your cloves or whatever you had put in it.

Bedroom washstand

(1980 memoirs)
In the bedrooms [in Frankie's house] they had wash bowl and pitcher on a wash stand, fresh towels hanging on its side racks, soap in the proper soap dish.  The toilet I think was down the short, clean basement stairs.  And a pot under the bed - a chamber pot.

Our house

(1993 July, Rueping memoirs)
The Ruepings built our house for us.  It had a porch across the front with big willow rockers.  Downstairs:  living room, dining room, kitchen.  Upstairs:  four bedrooms, one for the maid and a sleeping porch for my mother, who had TB and went to Wales WI to a San to learn how to take care of herself.  She slept on the porch year around.

Lace curtains

(1992 Memoirs)
Uncle Fred and Aunt Olga, brother and sister, kept house on Main Street [in Oconto WI], the little house that was home to all of them.  The front porch was nearly on the street, with two windows on the left with lace curtains, at which Aunt Olga and I sat in the dark and watched the passing crowd.  "Hump," Aunt Olga would mumble, "look at her dress, torn at the hem, and I just finished it yesterday.  Hump."  I knew she was an excellent sewer, accurate and painstaking, and charged little for her pains.

Makeover

Spent the evening at Jean Birkett's, where the women of our church met.  She has a new living-room curtain arrangement.  The bottom part of her windows have small working shutters, while the top is monk's cloth with fringe that pull.  You will have to see it.  Transforms the room and surely is different.

Modern Colonial

(1967 November 2)
Last night Auxiliary met at Alice Read's - new people here who built a house beyond Meadows on top of hill.  Looks small from road, but many rooms.  Frautschi's Madison [furniture store] did living room - theme is Modern Colonial - no maple furniture [like Polly's colonial], all walnut, all quiet and good taste.  Mr. Read has a study with old fashioned desk, sofas, etc.  In basement, a shop - saws, etc.  Children have their rooms in basement.  Also big playroom, etc.  Many closets.  Also a family room.

Beaumont Ave.

Hear you are thinking of buying a house.  Arguments for and against.  Big consideration is money and depreciation and upkeep.  LL says it's a luxury.  The first one we bought was cute but too small.  When Daddy found he couldn't keep his stamps in your room any longer, I think it was a disappointment.  Our bedroom was also a sad place, as the rain burst in on the closet shelf and wet the albums one spring.  Think hard about your needs and what you can afford for upkeep.

Box lunch

(1992 December)

Yesterday I slept thru dinner, and Jean fixed me up a box lunch - sandwich and apple. Good to be where there are people, and it is also good to be home, which is where I wish I were.

Tar mama

(1990 August 16)

I hope I remember not to have my driveway tarred again. I will have the grass cut out and the cracks filled, but not the whole surfaced. This stuff is still tacky, and yesterday I got my old tennis shoes so gummy it took me 20 minutes to clean them with kerosene.

Prioritized

(1988 May 21)

My lawn man is very eccentric and unreliable and will not agree to come on a certain day - I want Thursday so the grass grows larger. But expect him eventually. Kathryn says he is a devout Methodist and all the Methodist ladies get first consideration.

Archie

(1988 May 21)

Archie himself a character, wears the dirtiest white painter's overalls you can imagine, and emits an odor. But he is not a fool. When a screw broke off of rust in the kitchen window, he sent me for a fireplace wooden match for wood to plug the hole and a new screw. Some painters would say that is a job for a carpenter.

Garage door

(1987 November 7)

I have a new good carpenter, B & D Construction - he put in the garage door and is going over the house and will do what is needed - new putty in old storms, new latches, better lock on basement door, so when you kids get the house, it will be in good repair. This is all expensive - the garage door alone over 300. Over 100 to install.

Upholsterers

(1987 February 27)

So far no one to tackle my love seat. Every one you ask says "Cockcroft" - he did mine for years and no longer very interested. Jean has already bought the material for her davenport and is worried. Jan cannot find Walstead, the man who should do it, as he put the cover on and tied the springs in the first place. Out of biz.