Faded Beauty

For almost six years I have been driving past this little house tucked between two nondescript stucco houses downtown. I can't help feeling that it has a lot of stories to tell. It is a beautiful example of Queen Anne Victorian with fishtail shingles, intricately carved corbels and posts and a fine big porch. As my grandfather, and probably everyone else of his generation, was fond of saying, 'they just don't build them like that anymore.'

The house is sorely lacking a coat a paint, but looks like efforts to sand it and patch it are ongoing. Color experiments have been made here and there, most notably on the porch posts. It has freshly laundered white curtains and a lovely inset of stained glass in jewel tone colors around the window. 

The front steps, though unpainted look newly built of sturdy stock, and I would hazard to guess that somebody is painstakingly making a new front  porch rail to match the one that can be seen on the left side.

 The yard is tiny and dry, but a raised bed has been built and weeded, and the shovels and rakes at the ready indicate further intention. There are numerous metal sculptures carefully placed between abandoned pots, and I picture someone of artistic temperament torn between making more art or scraping more paint from this beautiful little house.

The house always looked run down and unloved until I got out of my car and took a closer look. I will be keeping a closer watch on it from now on because I think it more likely that it is actually very much loved and appreciated by somebody with two jobs, or small children or a wavering attention span....