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Chrissie's avatar

Promptvent 7

Cottage

Years ago I had to wait months before moving into a cottage . It really was too big to be described as such . Standing upright and set into grass surrounding, two monkey trees guarding . These danced majestically like twirling ballerinas blocking out light, dominating mood and energy . They were chopped down leaving the village aghast . Talks of preservation and conservation abounded . My mother didn’t care, they did not live stifled in bleak repose .

The real endearing quality; inside walls made of wood and cobb over a span in width . When a wiggly damp wall was plastered above the fireplace in the lounge , it opened up into a wooden weaved maze needed loving care and dedication to restore . My dad achieved this but said he never wanted to do so again . An old roaring boiler set high up in the main reception room provided heat . It looked like a black wrought iron contraption made centuries before . A monster churning out heat and hot water. No cooking was done there but we had to stay away as Dad told us it was dangerous . The staircase was fitted with a door around the staircase entrance, underneath shielded with glass doors with window panels adorned with white cotton lace . It added a quaint touch. The kitchen and bathroom were small. A door led the way to a glass covered extension with a huge coal bunker . An old fashioned kitchen cupboard placed on the wall edge stood ready to be used for storage . The floor was cement and there was no heat. The windows were riddled with condensation so we set about with artistry to transform with characters from fairy stories . Up the staircase inside again we landed in a wide passage with three doors . Three bedrooms with space to play all around. There were no windows at the rear of the house except the conservatory. Every bedroom fitted with sash windows with sills that could seat a child comfortably . The first bedroom with two windows was for our parents . The other two were for us . We chopped and changed over the years and I was never upset about sharing a room with a sister seven years younger .

It was a lovely homely abode , but I never truly felt it was a cottage . Not joined to other houses , huge rooms and space it was like a country mansion to me . How it made me feel was warm and cosy , set in a village miles away from a town. It was a cottage with three sets of windows at the top with the same amount on the ground floor . It was certainly very different from any other house I had lived in . Looking outside a house sealed in by a wall with a five bar gate to allow the car into the drive and a small gate leading to the front door set into a solid porch used to wipe our feet or the cat to deliver gifts to us . We rarely locked the door for the first years we lived there . When we started to, the key was huge . It was an abode dating back to more than a hundred years but inside it had a young feel , maybe because three playful girls lived there and we played hide and seek and could be as noisy as we liked .

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Angela Dacres-Dixon's avatar

Promptvent day 7

I gaze dreamily into the flames of the fire, that dances and burns with smoky memories of those who once lived here within these rooms. The people and animals who loved and laughed and cried and birthed and died here. Their stories live on in the ancient cob of the walls. I look up to the old beam that rises above the fireplace, through the ceiling into the bedroom. It is made from an oak tree that grew hundreds of years ago and has seen generations of lives and many changes. I climb the stairs to the bedroom where many have rested their weary bodies after a hard day’s work, maybe snuggled up together all in one bed for warmth and lack of space. And as I lay down and place my head on the pillow, I think of all the old souls merging together with mine as I close my eyes to go to sleep in my cosy old cottage.

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