The two children of the family were very happy to play in the house that was under construction. Some day it would be their house.
See how happy they were amidst the scrap lumber and power tools? So very happy.
Winter came to the house on the mountain.
The Mountain House wasn't ready for Christmas. We - err- the family decorated for the holiday though. The mantle was hung with construction paper stockings and chains. After a couple of cocktails, the mom wasn't concerned with spilling glitter as much. The glitter really started flowing. The mom was still finding glitter in the kitchen six months later.
Back to the house. The Dad kept working hard and the family got to move into it. They started with a kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom. The living room came later. The Dining Room was sometimes accessible.
The kitchen got a new sub floor. Atlee demonstrates how sturdy it is. Not really, she's just sitting there.
The family had a happy, happy spring.
The house was a little small. The two children had to share a room. There were many fights and many books strewn about on the beautiful hardwood floors.
The walls were bright colors. Green and purple. Different rooms. Not the same room. That might be a bit much.
And the house had beautiful hardwood floors. Did I mention that? See? This is a dish my friend Gret made for me when we were like seventeen. I just wanted her to see I still had it and it wasn't broken. The rest of you can look at that floor.
Time passed, as it does. While the family with two children lived at the Mountain House, they became the family with three children.
And the Grandfather the family had moved to Pennsylvania to be near passed away. It was decided the family with three children would be much more comfortable in the bigger city house.
The family moved from the Mountain House. Thus ends the story of the Mountain House. Now go make up some song based on the Beverly Hillbillies. I'm not clever enough. Rich could do that. I'll get him working on that.
We still lived there for these pictures. Some of you may have heard about Moose, the most dog hateingist cat to ever be adopted out of the Saranac Lake SCPA. That cat hated dogs. Could beat most of them up, too. There are still dogs with scars in Wilmington, NY. He's passed away. Somewhere, he's beating up a German Shepherd. He's happy, we know.
Summer at the Mountain House was very, very nice.
But we can't keep both houses. So, um, any of you fabulously wealthy readers in say the DC area looking for a great getaway, contact me.