Posts Tagged ‘The Thomas Crellin House’

Propping, Patching, Painting

Monday, April 10th, 2017

Mahatma Gandhi

You’ve probably heard the old joke about aging.  (Pay attention to the punctuation.)  “When you are 40, it’s Patch.  Patch.  Patch.  When you are 60, it’s Patch, Patch, Patch, Patch.  When you reach the venerable age of 80, it’s PatchPatchPatchPatchPatch.”  Well, it’s as true for houses in this neck of the woods as it is for people – maybe more so.

Of course, I don’t really have a straight-across comparison between our house and any living person.  The house was built in 1869, the same year that Mahatma Gandhi and Henri Matisse were born.  Gandhi lived until 1948 – 79 years; Matisse until 1954 – 85 years.  Not too shabby for either of them, but certainly not the age of our house.

Henri Matisse

Or, for a closer comparison, I could look at the building materials in addition to the age. Granted, redwood lumber (brought north on an oyster schooner) versus flesh and blood is definitely an apples and oranges sort of deal.  But, it is telling that some living redwood trees are 2,000 years old and more.  That’s definitely ‘flesh’ of a different sort and the statistics bode well for our house – to a point.

I’ve been reflecting on all of this because it’s looking like a new coat of paint is in order.  I’m not sure when we painted last (and by “we” I do not mean us, personally.)  It’s been at least ten years, maybe closer to twice that.  We had one side painted a year in the interest of our budget and I’m sure that will be the way of it this time, too.  It’s a big project.

Tom Crellin/H.A. Espy House, 1964

Plus, there’s always the scary possibility that the painter will run across a rotten board or some other dire contingency.  In her dotage, my mother worried that the little marble fireplace in the erstwhile parlor was sinking into oblivion.  More than once she had the Mack brothers or Bob Bredfield crawl under the house to reassure her.  And… speaking of fireplaces, what about that fern growing out of our east chimney?

As I say – PatchPatchPatchPatchPatch!

The Tall and The Short of It

Sunday, January 1st, 2012

Hall Door

     The first day of the New Year: a good day for visiting.  We are planning to go calling on two of our old doors which have recently taken up residence across the street. For years they had lived in our garage – leftovers from a long-ago remodel here.  Now they are beginning life anew at neighbor Bradley’s.  They are upstairs in his house just as they once were here.  I’m sure they will feel right at home.
     Bradley’s house (the W.D. Taylor House, 1870) and ours (the Thomas Crellin House, 1869) are only a year apart in age, but other than being ‘stick built’ are not much alike.  It’s my understanding that our house was built from plans that the Crellin family brought with them from the Isle of Man in England.  That fact, according to the preservation architects who specialize in that sort of thing, causes the design elements of our house to be more ‘modern.’
     As it was explained to us, the usual way for new building ideas to get to the West Coast in those days was very gradually.  Plans moved west with the pioneers and it generally took twenty to thirty years for the cutting-edge ideas from England to reach our side of this continent.  The fact that the Crellins came ’round the horn directly to Oysterville with their house plans is apparent in the details of this house as well as in its twin up the street which was built by Tom’s brother in 1867.
     I don’t know for certain, but I think that one of these distinctive design elements has to do with our interior doors and their knobs.  The doors are standard height, 78½ inches, but the doorknobs, instead of being the usual halfway between top and bottom (which would be at about 39 inches) are in reality ten inches lower.
 
    The result is that very tall people like Nyel almost have to lean down to grasp the knob.  Which is odd, in a way, because Tom Crellin was reputed to be one of the tallest oystermen on the bay – more than six and a half feet tall – and could, therefore, tong for oysters in waters deeper than anyone else.  For sure these low doorknobs were a challenge for him.
     In my growing up years, when I was an Oysterville Summer Kid, the thrill of returning to this house each year had a lot to do with these doorknobs.  Nowhere else in my experience were there doorknobs just the right height for me.  Only here at Granny and Papa’s house in Oysterville!  Nowadays, of course, living with them every day causes me to almost take them for granted.  Almost… but not quite.
     I am so glad that those two extra doors that were stored for so long in our garage are now beginning a useful second life at Bradley’s.  And, of course, for me the greatest pleasure comes from the fact that they have not moved far from home.  They are still in Oysterville!