423b2e
423b2e

8.14.2011

Little Pink Houses


Tomball, TX

I don't know exactly when my obsession with old houses came into existence. From earliest childhood memories, I've been drawn to dusty attics, warped wooden floorboards, chinking in the walls, gingerbread trim and picket fences. Whilst squiring Soubriquet around the South, I noticed we took decidedly male / female roles when it came to picture taking time. He was busy angling for another shot at that cool rusty truck up on blocks. I pestered him to take the photo of that 'oh so cute little house.' I imagine his dreams were of grit and gears and motor oil and manly tools whilst mine were of the domestic variety: tea and the paper in the kitchen, dogs sleeping underfoot, a sweet garden to muck about in and our own private library of course! A place to call our own.


Gay Hill, TX

Gay Hill, TX
A long, long time ago, I designed landscapes. This is one of my designs.

Gay Hill, TX

Newnan, GA
Soubriquet's favorite

Senoia, GA
The scary house that kept following us!

xxx

6 comments:

gz said...

it is that feeling of character and being and times that others have passed there. Something a new one of those "little boxes...." wont have

red dirt girl said...

gz -

you're absolutely right: character. old homes have lots of character, interesting details, treasures to be discovered behind old wallpaper or up in attics, old fashioned plants in the garden ... i like that lived-in feeling.

xxx

soubriquet said...

Geesh again.
Mr Souberkwit is not only eyeing up the rust, he's also much taken with these same little pastel-coloured wooden houses, all their gingerbread detailing, their shaded porches, that feeling some of them emanate of being a quiet haven.
Sitting out on an evening porch, in a rocker, listening to the sounds of sighing trees, relaxing.
Yes, there'd be a rusty truck being rebuilt at the back and the sound of a muttering woman digging in a vegetable patch, as I pop open a cool beer.

red dirt girl said...

Dearest Soubry,

All my pastel houses reveries include you: you in the back pottery; tinkering on our old rusty truck; us sitting on the porch in a couple of rockers, sipping a cold beer (you) iced tea for me. I don't want to do domesticate without you!

xxx

goatman said...

I would be picturing the old falling-down structures wondering who moved about in them, how many families coursed through, and why the latest occupants didn't take care of the roof so the wood remained dry -- and it was bound for ground. I live in the past, apparently.

red dirt girl said...

goatman~

the past is not such a bad place to be ... i live there too!

xxx