From the start, we knew the manor had its imperfections; faulty wiring, antiquated plumbing, and a gaping hole in the dining room ceiling, just to name a few. But the place had a certain irresistible charm that rose from its nooks and crannies like the scent of baking bread.
The dry Ohio summer of 1988, we jumped into the venture with young romantic hearts and have never regretted the plunge. It really isn't a manor, so to speak, but a ramshackle French country style limestone and cedar house, on four acres along the Scioto River, built in 1927 and named "Willow Manor" by the first owners. The willows once lining the stone culvert, stretching east to west across the property, sadly, are gone.
The manor doorbell is wired to ring in the kitchen. A small celluloid box, covered with years of paint, is fixed in the corner of the room, above the cabinets on the soffit near the ceiling. Upon our first arrival at the manor, it produced a delightfully old fashioned "ding-dong". Fifteen years ago, or so, for reasons unknown, the ding-dong was replaced by a loud, disconcerting, guttural choke. It was quite amusing for unsuspecting guests to hear the sudden strangulation, after which I would nonchalantly call out, "Honey, get the door!" I'm sure it was all a bit too "Addams Family".
A few years ago, after a long absence, the "dong" part of ding-dong randomly returned. Strange, since I had grown fond of the death bell's quirky heralding, a delicious air of perpetual Halloween. Was it possessed by one of the resident manor ghosts? Probably not, but it did add a certain ambiance.
That is just too cool, Willow! I love that, after so many years, part of the chime has returned. If it was one of your ghosts responsible, perhaps they're give you the other half in a few more years. One can only hope.
ReplyDeleteDelightful post. And the wonder of things! In the last house I lived, the oven quit working. The last time I had the repairman out, he said, if it goes, next time we won't be able to fix it. So when it went, I just stopped using it, then after many years, someone turned it on, and it worked again. Life is full of mysteries!
ReplyDeleteBecause I am now living in my second 1800 or earlier house, I so very much appreciate quirks like your ghost bell. What a treat!
ReplyDeleteHaha, Annell, old appliances have a mind of their own, don't they? Sometimes I just think they need a rest.
ReplyDeleteThat was quite the invigorating wake-up song! Actually, if you do the moves, it's an aerobic little ditty. Can't stop tapping my feet, and now I'll be singing this song all day. Just delightful!
ReplyDeleteThe uniqueness of houses is fascinating including the "strangulation" sound of a doorbell. Bells of any kind are "appealing". I still like the intermittent chime of my mantle clock which seems to have its own gremlin.
ReplyDeleteTom, I think it's the quirks that make a house unique and charming, makes it home.
ReplyDeleteYou know my vote goes with the Manor ghosts.
ReplyDeleteI love this post! Some of the mystery behind the manor has now been named. And you know, it IS a manor - it is!
I agree that the quirkiness of the little things bring the best treasures of a home. I sold Real Estate in Indy for 10 years. I was always thrilled to get to list or view an old home and always pointed out these cool things.
ReplyDeleteSeeing your old doorbell, makes me wonder, who has pushed that button? What were their stories? Of the many people that had come and gone from Willow Manor...salesmen, friends, family, strangers. Imagine all those that have actually pressed that button.
That's pretty funny! I wonder what made it suddenly decide to work again. I remember a neighbor, when we were growing up, whose doorbell was actually Beethoven's Fur Elise! I thought it was goofy, and would have HATED hearing that over and over, if I lived there, but it was always entertaining to hear it when we'd visit my friend who lived there.
ReplyDeletehere at casa mouse we HAD one of these modern wireless doorbells. a few months ago I finally physically remove the button. seems that the bell didn't go off when anyone pressed it but it would go off when a neighbor used their garage door opener.
ReplyDeletecrazy!
now we just have taped a sign that says doorbell broke, knock loudly....unfortunately since my working space is on the third floor, knocking often doesn't work either!
i like the thought of the manor ghosts playing around with your doorbell.
Your manor is so romantic in my mind. Have you ever considered replanting some Willow trees?
ReplyDeleteI am laughing at annell's comment because I can't stop thinking "she didn't use an oven for years???" My mother would love for her oven to break :)
I know. I can't imagine not using my oven for a day, let alone years! I have a double and most days I have something in each.
ReplyDeleteA house with no imperfections would simply be a sterile box. Long live oddball doorbells etc, they're what make us love our funny little homes!
ReplyDeleteI've always wanted to ake you why you haven't replaced the willows along the banks of the river...they are fast growin and you have the room....
ReplyDeletemaybe the ghost,Ding and Dong, miss them..
gotta love old houses. when we first moved into the city house with it's high ceilings, fretted windows, wood floors and ancient wiring and plumbing I had to be careful where I plugged the vacuum cleaner in. I was forever blowing the circuit breaker.
ReplyDeleteGood post.
ReplyDeleteGreat prose.
Odd... I haven't heard a doorbell's ring in years.
Dear Willow, I cannot imagine what it must be like living in a house in which everything works perfectly.Willow Manor's quirks seem totally charming to me and are certainly fewer than I can number in my own dear home!!
ReplyDeleteYour home sounds just delightful. A 1920s house with I'm sure all the vintage wood trim and floors that no one gets today in buying a new house. Surely it has good bones -- and a lot of fantastic character. -- barbara
ReplyDeleteSuz, before the culvert was rocked, I'm sure it was a stream. Most likely, the willows were planted to stabilize the banks. The culvert has basically dried up, and serves as a drainage ditch. So many projects at the manor, the planting of willow trees was sidetracked.
ReplyDeleteBarbara, yes, it has all the wonderful original woodwork, lots of great detailing, and built-ins. Loads of personality.
ReplyDeletewhat a lovely backstory to hear of how you came to live at the manor. sounds like quite the place. and i love the bit of 80s funk to accompany this (released about the time you moved in??)
ReplyDeletebut just couldn't wait .......had to fast forward to the bridge (ringadinga) ;-)
I found the doorbell tale to be quite amusing and loved getting a bit of the manor's history.
ReplyDeleteHave you ever thought planting willows again, Tess? The business with the doorbell would make a good short story.
ReplyDeleteOur old Cornish cottage was built in 1864. Parts of it were crumbling, but with external walls almost three feet thick in places, it was always going to take a long time to fall down!
I love it when you talk about the Manor. I may have posted before about the clock I inherited from my Mom. The chimes stopped working long ago except that every few months it decides to chime at 1:00, 1:15 and 1:30. Sometimes it is a.m. and sometimes it is p.m. or even both. Then it stops again.
ReplyDeleteIt was always my dream to live in such a house like Willow Manor but sadly it never materialized.If I was physically able I would own such a home. I can only be satisfied with the stories such as this one. How wonderful your home is and all the life you give it. Thank you for sharing it with me.
ReplyDeleteDeliciously eerie ... and eerily dongful. A -dong without the introductory ding- ... hmmm, perhaps your manor ghosts are practicing their one hand clapping.
ReplyDeleteGlad to hear the dong is back so that more people will come to Willow Manor!
ReplyDeleteI love this little bit of serendipity. It 'rings my bell', so to speak. Gem and I are presently on the lookout for a small, unloved old house we can gradually restore.
ReplyDeleteSomehow, just knowing that Willow Manor exists, makes me happy.
I've never had to desire to live in an old house until the last few years... stories like yours of your manor are enchanting.
ReplyDeleteand am I the only one who love loves that song.
what can I say . I liked Disco.
Well done, for not ringing the changes and replacing old for new...you would have dropped a clanger:)
ReplyDeleteIt's a lovely story. Your home is incredible.
Thanks for your feedback, Tess.
ps, do 4 acres keep you busy? Does any of it flood?
I think Martin has his finger on
ReplyDeletesomething. I saw several poems,
a series, but a short story, or
novella would also suffice;
and you could take the facts
as you have lived them, and
perhaps not infuse them with
how you imagined them. The
doorbell saga is intriguing and
only the hanged man, the old lady
and Ralphie really know the truth
of it. To live on such a parcel of
land, in such a grand old French
relic, on the banks of the Scioto,
hey, "Is this heaven?" "No, it's
Ohio."
Ken, the terrace behind the manor is in the 100 year flood plain, but the house sits safe on higher ground.
ReplyDeleteMartin and Glenn, uh-oh, stand back! I feel a series of manor poems coming on.
ReplyDeleteI like the idea of a bell absorbing the vibes of the visitor!
ReplyDeleteIt's a ghost for sure, Tess. Not 2 minutes before I came here I suddenly burst into 'Ring My Bell' and had a brief discussion with my husband about its, er, metaphorical aspects. Then got to the end of your post and went ooo-er. Spooky!
ReplyDeletelovely, dear Tess. your house has so much character.
ReplyDeleteTess,
ReplyDeleteReally nice 'close-and-quirky domesticity' of the kind which, well, 'rings my bell'!
This is that quiddity of life that the best descriptions hold. The stuff historians like to find and poets massage into their pieces.
Marvelous!
Trulyfool
the ghosts of electric wiring in an old house. We rewired most of ours and are only left with the weird noises and the harmonica playing at night. We've grown use to it and only wish that whatever was playing it was better at it.
ReplyDeleteHarmonica playing? Now that's eerie. We hear footsteps on the stairs, whispers, and sometimes talking and laughing at night, but never music.
ReplyDeleteI love when you write about your place. It's just so quirkily comfortable, like toe socks :)
ReplyDeleteWe live in an old house originally built to house mill workers...sadly no ghosts seem to live here...and they certainly never heard of door bells!
ReplyDeleteI love all of the strange things that happen in an old house! You never know quite what to expect, be it good or bad!
ReplyDeleteA bit quirky (or spooky) but so cool! It must be a total adventure restoring and keeping up with a place like that...
ReplyDeleteYour post was so well written and interesing also!
The quirky charm of old houses allows us to overlook many an imperfection.
ReplyDeleteIdiosyncratic: that's the word to describe the bell.
ReplyDeleteI guess your bell was just taking a small break and has now sprung back to life. Maybe the other part of it is destined for a sabbatical soon. Your home sounds so wonderful and I agree with the other commenter, you should once again plant willows along the river.
ReplyDeletePest Control.
ReplyDeleteRe the doorbell that had lost its ring,
Then the ‘dong’ came back, next comes the ‘ding’?
I warn you, let’s face it,
You’d better replace it
Those 'Ding Dongs’ mean Avon is calling!
"But the place had a certain irresistible charm that rose from its nooks and crannies like the scent of baking bread".
ReplyDeleteFew people I know can crafty a sentence like you Tess. Quality, always quality, never disappoints.
I love it Tess! The "young bell woman" has set the tone for my day. Ghost woman and vibrant Tess, flip sides, what keeps life interesting; made me smile. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteI love it when you talk about Willow Manor's quirks. This was a particularly interesting and mysterious one!
ReplyDeleteWhat a great old house. Four acres would be heaven to inhabit. The sound you describe for the choking sound of the doorbell would indeed add to the fun of the abode. Thanks for sharing the bits of nuances.
ReplyDeleteLove your manor house stories ~
ReplyDeleteSounds brilliant. Even the faults are good!
ReplyDeleteI love this post!
ReplyDeleteThe dong has returned.
My doorbell plays Jack Nicholson saying "Little, pigs, little pigs, let me come in! Not by the hair on your chinny chin chin? Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!"
ReplyDeleteIt keeps the debt collectors away.
Seems as if bells have secret lives too...and why not, in a place where ghosts may dwell??
ReplyDeletesinply ghastly. huh, my house didn't come with a doorbell, just one of those simple plug in doo-dads, which finally died and i still havent replaced it. Don't even bother knocking, Toby will let us know if you're on the doorstep.
ReplyDeleteActually, most people use the great old door knocker. The sound travels though the house like thunder!
ReplyDeleteVisitor's Cantata
ReplyDeleteSpirits in the wiring,
this old manor never ceases
to keep us entertained--
starting with the doorbell
that lost its ding, or was it
its dong...several years ago,
and only makes a gurgling,
wheezing, choking sound
when pressed or massaged
or struck with a fist or palm,
with the faintest bell ding
kind of dropping out of the
wheeze like dandruff on a
dark sweater--so most people
use the heavy old brass door
knocker, and the blows always
roll through the house like
summer thunder, waking the
cat, scaring the ghosts, and
rousing me from writing, cooking,
or God forbid, cleaning.
Yep, Glenn, poetically speaking, you hit the nail, or should I say door knocker, on the head. You sweat poetry, my friend.
ReplyDeleteGhosts or just good old fashioned magic. We got our house washed eight months ago (as you do once every 15 years) and our electric front door bell ceased to ding dong (as Stafford captures so well). Being an aspirant handyman I followed the wires, I replaced the batteries, I made sure the ding dong mechanism wasn't jammed then gave up.
ReplyDeleteSix months later a visitor came to the door, pressed the button as so many had vainly done before him and hey presto -it's been working ever since. My handiperson intervention had worked. Like my computer it was just a little slow in booting up.
Hi,
ReplyDeleteI begin on internet with a directory
Love the Addams family reference. I'd forgotten the sound of their doorbell.
ReplyDeleteOld houses harbor the best stories. They have so much history stuffed chock-a-block into every nook and cranny it just naturally oozes out.
Love the story of your manor acquisition - ghosts and all!!
ReplyDeleteMy bell is that ubiquitous 'ding dong' - very flat and lifeless. I'd like to go back to the brass door knocker I used to have......I need to search the attic.
It makes me feel so good to know that other people (and people I happen to like) are also in old houses with old house quirks.
ReplyDeleteI love Thistlebright Cottage, and wouldn't trade it for anything, but I have to admit that while some of the quirks are "quirky" (rumbling, chattering heating pipes), some of them get me downright depressed (the awful, awful bathroom that I can't afford to have renovated).
Have you noticed that when you hear stories of other people's old houses, it always sounds charming, but sometimes when it's in your own house it's more like frustrating?
I love the doorbell story - and I would have left the choking sound, too...
I can just imagine the sound of that guttural choke. Oh dear me. LOl. Hmm, yes, reminds me of one ringer we had ages back, but I do thing the weird return of the regular gong would be more relaxing. How funny.
ReplyDeleteGreat photo btw, Willow.
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ReplyDelete