In a related story to one we posted in the blog last week, this article explores a beautiful conversion from an old firehouse to a home.
From OregonLive: “Karla Pearlstein lives in a fire station. She’s not a firefighter, but an expert in restoring historic homes. This one just happened to be built in 1912 as a firehouse.
Today, carriage doors swing wide to welcome friends. Originally, they flew open to let firemen, riding a horse-drawn ladder truck and steam pumper, respond when a ticker-tape telegraph flashed an alert.
Fire Station No. 17 in Northwest Portland’s Nob Hill sheltered five horses in stalls behind the engine room on the ground floor, and about a half dozen firefighters upstairs.”
A brief history of how horse stables attached to homes became garages became living spaces, then became garages again. And in the final twist, in some instances, are being turned back into tiny ADU’s…
“A car is not a horse, and it doesn’t need a barn. Cars are built well enough now so that they do not require elaborate shelter,” said Frank Lloyd Wright, who integrated a carport in his Usonian plans, including the Gordon House in Silverton.
This is a subject that’s been coming up recently in family discussions around the table after dinner, over a glass of wine. One of us recently had a DNA test done and the results were—let’s just say—WILDLY different than our understanding of who were are and where we’re from.
This is an interesting piece published recently on the Matador Network about this very thing. Why do we feel a physical connection to certain places? What’s the science behind that?
“Your bones keep a record of your air and water intake. Your molars — at six years — mark the spot you’re living at that time, give or take a few hundred kilometers. Checkpoint one. Your wisdom teeth in adolescence mark a second spot. Checkpoint two. And the rest of your skeleton changes every five to 15 years, keeping its own record of isotype composition. Checkpoints three, four, five, etc.
How is this possible? Air and water are vastly different in different areas, and the amount and type of isotypes they contain vary from place to place. Not just countries — mile to mile, inland to sea, mountain to prairie. If you were living in Arizona when you were six and living in Washington when you were fourteen, scientists would be able to tell if they were to have a look.
So, yes, geography is in your bones. Your geography. If we carry place with us, of course we can harbor strange, inexplicable connections. Maybe my ancestors really did shape where I’m from and where I love. I carry my geography; do I also carry theirs?”
We all have our favorite spots to take in the beauty of fall foliage. It turns out, one of my favorites - Lone Fir Cemetery - is #1 pick on the Portland Monthly Top 5 Foliage Walks. You can read a little about it here: “Lone Fir is Portland’s oldest cemetery, and is brimming with beautiful trees including sugar maples, big-leaf maples, beech, chestnut, carpets of leaves, mossy graves, and plenty of paths for wandering. Circumnavigate the whole cemetery in 20 minutes - or spend an hour or two strolling all the paths, the historic rose garden, the military statues and the beautiful graves.”
This was posted recently on the Portland Office of Equity and Human Rights Facebook page. I’m really pleased that the city is starting to talk more about the historic racist policies and city planning choices they've made.
