I am a great one for Historic Listed Homes.
I grew up in one in the heart of the English countryside,
Thornton College, mentioned in the Doomsday book, a grand dwelling I called mine for six years.
My parents also owned a little Georgian Cottage in London, remember? No changes could be made to the exterior but the inside was anything goes!
Since I am currently homeless I decided to tootle about on the internet and found there were some properties in Texas that were affordably gracious begging to be viewed.
So began a short road trip through parts of the Lone State neither hubs nor I had been.
The weather cast a bitter spell on these delightful homes but we enjoyed our walk through history and began the process of ruling out.
First stop Palestine,
“There’s nothing in Palestine,” we were told. There’s nothing in Lindale either so here goes nothing!
Our agent gave us a comprehensive rundown of the area and contrary to opinion there was much in Palestine, churches, shops a large park, museums, antiques, a theatre and even a cinema. It used to be a cotton and railroading town with bars and brothels lining its main drag. Now the top employers are the four State Correctional Facilities in the area.
That put a damper on things. Prisoners for neighbors. I don’t think so!
We saw four houses, my favorite was this beauty, set on almost an acre,
with high ceilings and hardwood floors, original fixtures and screened in sleeping porches, it flowed exquisitely around the central hallway and staircase. The only problem was its current use as a storage facility for a family member. The downstairs rooms were distractingly filled with a jumble of furniture, boxes and knick knacks.
The pool was at the bottom of a beautifully manicured garden, a stone’s throw from the main road.
Our chatty agent touted its selling point as an uninterrupted view of the park, a children’s playground not Beckenham Place Park in London. The red bricked high school turned museum sat on the grounds in stark contrast to the elegant white Victorian looking down from its elevated perch across the road.
Had the home been set on 5 acres it may have been a temptation! But criminals for neighbors? I think we’ll pass.
The next house was another roomy, spacious property, completely vacant which gave us a better feel for the airy interior.
The building had been leveled and sadly on the inside not a wall had escaped the devastating result. Large cracks 2 inches wide ran from floor to ceiling. What other hidden flaws lurked beneath the plaster?
This house shared the street with smaller cottages,
standing on the corner it defied its neglected neighbors.
I loved the Catholic Church,
and the downtown community theatre.
Some characteristics of the listed houses reminded me of my grandmother’s old stone Victorian in London. Bead worked walls, deep wainscoting, boldly painted rooms of reds, greens and blues, shimmering single paned windows, pocket doors to open up rooms for entertaining, basements and leg tiring staircases.
If only there was more land…and no felons!
We were heading to Galveston the following day to see what there was on offer in that seaside town’s historic district. For the moment we made ourselves a meal and ate in the comfort of our very modern hotel room.
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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