In the Pacific Northwest, a former antiques dealer nudges the stiff lines of a late-1930s Tudor toward a more open-hearted décor reminiscent of English and French country styles. Old-House Interiors October 2009
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Editor’s Note
While I was putting this issue together, I had special cause to appreciate things that last—things so solid or well-made, like the landscaping stone I wrote about in the garden story, they do not become an annoyance. Lately I am having a breakdown cluster. (Doesn’t it always seem to happen that way?) My car’s ignition is on the fritz: I must put the key in just so, softly move it up and forward, and turn it very slowly while listening for just the right click. The microwave oven, barely six months old, occasionally decides that it will shut off after three seconds, again and again, until I yell and slam the door. Our cordless phone now has a range of about a yard from the cradle. My laptop has taken to screen freezes. All of the hemlock balusters on the building—only eight years old, installed correctly, kept painted—are turning friable, becoming dust from the inside out and sprouting mushrooms. Then there’s the breakdown saga related to switching health-insurance companies . . . .
All the more reason to take note of what goes right. Computer batteries really do last longer these days. The marine finish on the porch roof has held up remarkably well, still some shine to it after a decade of salt air. For 105 years my house has withstood every northeaster and gale and blizzard without falling down. (Hmm, did construction lumber used to be better?) The Willard clock at church, hung in 1812, has chimed on the hour since, on just the sexton’s windup every eight days.
Trim needs paint, iron rusts, and wood fences won’t last a lifetime. Old-house people know that maintenance is a fact of life—unless you want to tackle a major restoration all over again. Stone, though—that’s another story. The stone walls we added to the property at Tanglemoor, my old house, need no maintenance and don’t break down. Water and lichen have given the stones a patina, so in fact the walls get better with time. Sit there and look beautiful; it’s great to have something you can take for granite.
Patricia Poore, Editor of Old-House Interiors
