Daily Post – Snapshot Stories Open the first photo album you can find — real or virtual, your call — and stop at the first picture of yourself you see there . Tell us the story of that photo.
Having been the amateur photographer in the family, it is difficult to find a photograph of myself since I was typically behind the camera lens rather than in front of it. But, luckily for me, my husband had taken the time to ask me to pose for a couple of photos while I was stoking the fire in the huge, antique fireplace when we lived in the old, stone house.
It was a cold, Canadian Winter’s day, a good day to stay inside as large snow flakes fell from the gray skies. The boys were closeby, playing in the large living room. Every time I made a fire in that humongous fireplace, my mind would drift back two hundred years and wonder of the people who originally lived here. Was this the fireplace where they cooked or was the fireplace, in what was now the dining room, where the cooking was done? The fireplace in the dining room had been closed off decades ago, probably when oil heat and electricity were installed into the home. Yet the mantle remained even though the opening was bricked up.
Actually, it was not a single home until in the 1940′ or 50’s when a descendant of J.M. Schneider (who started the famous J.M. Schneider meat company in Kitchener, Ontario, Canada) had lived there. The story about the descendant was that she was a spinster, an old woman and she died in the old stone house on Halloween night.
I love spooky stories and the stone house was the perfect place to sit and imagine scary, spooky things… especially since the previous resident died in the house on Halloween night. That is pretty spooky!
Other imaginings I entertained were about the types of people who stayed in this place when it was a Stage Coach Stop. The floors in the upstairs were still original, after two centuries. The scars from where walls had been removed were evident in that original flooring.
It was incredible to think how small the bedrooms were, just barely enough room for a small feather or rope bed and a chair… maybe a hook on the wall for a coat and hat. A small room, which originally would have been a hallway between rooms was re-fashioned as a shared closet between each two of the bedrooms. Those walls were original, the closets, as hallways, were extremely narrow!
I loved living in that home for that one year, I wanted to live there forever. I loved the fantasies I could conjure of the lives who passed through that place, in the bedrooms, in the basement, the old barn which still housed an antique carriage and the attic where I was too afraid to explore!
Now that I have rekindled these memories, I am certain to have memorable dreams tonight.
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