After trudging through a hundred fields so I didn't have to walk up the roadside track entrance and maybe get seen I arrived at the back of a huge 3 story farm house.. The place wasn't difficult to get into with no door and several windows missing. I quietly crept through the doorway to be faced with the strangest of sights.. and the most awful stench! dried skin hanging from the ceiling.. a deers head looking at me.. an old overall hanging up and the walls scattered with pretty willow plates...
I walked down the dingy dark corridor towards the main living area, hanging on the wall was a gentlemans coat and two hung strung piles of invoices, this was a very common way of storing paperwork years ago., some dating back to 1954.
I was really surprised as I walked into the lounge area, so much stuff everywhere,. I really didn't get it,.. the hall way was like a herd of cattle had tramped through it, and now before me I had this beautiful room... pictures on the wall.. ornaments, a banjo leaning against a wall.. a lovely sculptured ladies head.. so many papers and vintage bits and bobs..
A pair of elegant figurines twirling their blue dresses stood either side of the mirror..
I made my way up the stair case..The wall paper now falling onto the stairs.. it creeked and felt kind of spongy, this always freeks me out and I hold my breath on tiptoes thinking some how itl make me lighter 🙈😅..
At the top was a small landing with a glass case with a pheasant inside it.. a corridor leading off onto the bedrooms..
The first bedroom. had a huge four poster bed, with blankets piled in disarray over it.. a dressing table with all manner of trinkets and photos neatly placed on them..
Across from that room was another room, very simple, a neatly made bed, a wash station with 2 jugs and bowls on it, and a portrait of a young girl hanging.. I still never know why so many photos and portraits get left behind... but thes usually a reason, as I later in find out..
The room at the end was literally falling down.. the floor boards missing.. holes in the roof that let the rain in.. yet a dresser balancing there hanging on for dear life...
The room opposite it was so pretty.. nature definitely well on its way to taking its claim on the room.. The draws stuffed with all sorts of photos, postcards, letters tied with string, old brownie cameras, and a will and testament...
So many personal items ide of wanted to treasure if they were mine.. I sat and read, as I do, for the longest time, trying to work out who was who within the family and what happened to them, a glimpse of their lives left to rot away..
I made my way down stairs through what was once a kitchen but now resembled an upside down chaos.. Little old bottles on a shelf, and a cupboard door being held closed by piles of old newspapers..
I managed to open the door.. the were shelved filled with old pots n pans and a box, I pulled the box out and it was full of dolls wrapped in plastic.. very odd.
My time here had come to an end..and ide loved it, I wandered past a small table with a handbag and shoes on it.. and again my Imagination just goes off on its own.
Time to leave.. I scrambled up the bank and starting walking back to the car. A farmer on a quad drove upto me and asked me what I was doing as it was getting dark? luckily I was on a footpath and just said I was having some fresh air... we got talking and I asked him about the house.. A man was still living there in the old caravan that ide seen outside and the farm buildings ide already guessed were still in use.. the man is in his 70s and he was born there, he nursed his mum and dad until they passed away.. After having ilI health himself he moved into the caravan,.. and from the day his dad died he's never waked back inside the house.. too many memories.. too much pain within the walls.. he was the only one left.. so the house still stands like this to this day.. a sort of shrine to his past and family...
