I had looked at the pdf of the Toad Hall residence earlier. But that pdf cannot convey what a brilliant creation it is, out of the remnants of so many racked and ruined houses of the period, spied and saved over many decades by Mr. TH (who came from da Bronx right after WWII to the Eastern Shore. He made a great deal of money, or at least acquired a great deal of property in the region.)
I've avoided architecture as part of history, though I know better. For instance, where did the Italian castle architects and contractors go when artillery made their old forms obsolete? The Atlantic African coast, where they constructed the slave entrepôt castles. Those edifices weren't called castles for no reason. It's because that too is a lifetime's study and I only have this one lifetime at this time.
But the thoughts that kept coming in that low slung, two-story, winged, candle-lit house on Still Point Creek built out of wood, surrounded by vast rolling fields and creeks draining into the Chesapeake and stands of wood (horse country!) -- these 18th century Big Houses built out of English architectual traditions but were not built to also be military fortresses -- what this meant in terms of the New World and the people who were living here in the periods out of which this home is constructed -- it was exciting. Something entered for da Project tonight that couldn't have happened for us without being in a house like this.
Not to mention the company, which was splendid. The numbers of people here who are brilliant creators, artists, musicians, historians is boggling.
Or the food, which was splendid. It's all local, most of it grown at Toad Hall. Mrs. TH is a blacksmith, as well Arts Council Director and singer in a gospel choir that's going to Memphis at Christmas to sing with Al Green's choir in his tabernacle there -- and so many other things. They have looms and wheels. There are nine fireplaces in TH -- they all work. As Mr. TH puts it, if the hammer comes down, we're ready and able to survive. But they aren't survivalists and don't want to be. They are highly creative people who love art and music and history. You could even call them, particularly Mrs. TH, old hippies, and they're proud to be so.
It's driving me crazy that the history of this place, this county, this region, in the 20th century is as fascinating and deep as the history that came before. Because of the mission I can't drown in it like am in the earlier periods.
Could I settle here? Well, despite everything, this is the most segregated place I've ever lived.
In the meantime the furnace maintenance man is here. The furnace has been turned on. Ay-up. It works. Whew, it's hot. Last night it poured. Like New York, we desperately need rain down here too.
Crisis: His Nness's computer is either fataling failing or already failed. We'd hoped it would last for another month.
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5 comments:
I'm guessing that an architectural historian could tell us a great deal about what Ireland was like when most of the castles were built: They are very small by continental and British standards, and are concentrated in the southern part of the country.
I want to sing in a choir with Al Green. Just singing with him as part of a crowd was a thrill.
His Nness has been invited to go along. He thinks he will ... a lot of time and things to do between now and then!
Love, C,
If he doesn't go, he'll regret it later!
But there's a book that needs to be written.
Him dashing off all the time really slows down the process.
Love, c.
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