Notes from Cottage Hill Farm

Hello Friends,

I wanted to start this new year by telling you my story and the story of "Cottage Hill Farm".This will be a series of "Notes from Cottage Hill Farm....

What do you say about a house, a farm that has brought you so much joy and comfort for 10 years, now? When I first saw "her" she was old and tired.She had vines growing in her windows and paint peeling off her 200 year old frame,but to me she was beautiful.

Cottage Hill Farm was built in 1795 by David Hall, a planter, sheeperder and local statesman.She has seen births, deaths, indian attacks and fires and survived them all.

January 2005.....

I have always been a city girl, so coming to the rural countryside was going to be a challenge.That first winter was brutal.
One day while unpacking, I noticed, in the corner of the living room, pieces of paper sticking out of the wall. Not knowing any better at the time, I started to pull them out.Within an hour, I had removed "Vermont insulation".Old newspapers placed there over the years to fill in the cracks within the plaster where the walls met. The sun light started creeping in from behind the walls, followed by a cold blast of arctic air.Needless to say, George,(thats' my Husband) was not pleased.After a long night at the hospital (He's a doctor).He spent six hours filling in the holes I created, using joint compound. I did provide hot coffee that didn't seem to compensate.Especially when we went to bed that night,it was so cold, we could see our breath.

Five thirty in the morning came way too soon. Our bedroom was freezing .So, the thought of a nice hot shower was going to lift my spirits and enable me to get breakfast and make amends for,
"destroying the walls" the day before.


As I stood there, the only thing coming out of the shower head was a terrible "banging" noise and air. George, in his underwear and sorel boots,(cute, huh!) dragged his cold and tired body to the basement where the boiler is. Of course I followed him, giving moral support for what lie ahead. The full english basement, was an ice skating rink! Three inches of ice from a broken water pipe water had been running all night. No running water in the house, but plenty in the basement.

The "plumber" and local golf pro, only took two days to find the "problem". The "problem" was only going to cost "around" ten to twenty thousand dollars to fix. It was a complete replacement of plumbing, heating, defrosting the basement.

That week I spent at "the mall". Five stores, which anchor stores are, K-Mart and Sears. I cried that day. Alot. I was being thrown into a maelstrom.

I hated that house.I hated Vermont.Especially the plumber/golf-pro. I hated living at the mall, just to stay warm while, God knows what was going on at the farm. I decided to go and "check in", just in case, the plumbing crew was ahead of schedule. When I arrived, the first thing I noticed was a strong smell of kerosene filling the entire ground floor of the house.

Entering the basement, I noticed a large oil drum (who could miss it?) in the center of the room stuffed with scrap wood and old newspapers. You guessed it. The newspapers from the walls. Music was provided by "Hank Williams". lunch:"Kamudas' General store and post office." I was in hell. At least purgatory. Burney, plumber/golf-pro, told me:"It might take a little longer than he first thought. It seems, a family of bats had decided to inhabit the boiler.The game warden would have to be called because you know "Mssssssss Lesznik, they do carry rabies and you don't want these things flying around your family room ,now. That usually doesn't happen until the spring".

The plumbing eventually was repaired. Burney the plumber/golf-pro did leave to torment another customer and I waited for the next "challenge", as George puts it, to greet me.But, that's another story..........