You know, I really love the Fenlon family farm house.
I’ll post some pictures later, but this place is just absolutely peaceful.
A big old rolling landscape that was once a farm for over 150 years is now the home to my 2 post-college age cousins, Willie and Leah. Since my grandma died in 07’ they’ve revamped the place to make it work for them, but it still has that same nostalgic feel that we all grew up loving.
The house just holds so much history. My dad grew up here with his 4 brothers and sisters, their dad grew up here with his brothers and sisters and then 2 generations before that.
This place is intense. One of my relatives literally died from the black plague in the room I’m staying in back in the 1800’s. That is incredible.
If my relatives that immigrated from Ireland to build this farm way back in the day knew that I would be sitting in one of the upstairs rooms communicating with people across the country today they would be awe-struck.
I just love everything about the farm up here. The air, the sights, the quiet, the narrow staircase, the cellar, the low low ceilings, the gross well water. It all just makes this place so perfect and special.
Last week before we came, the family paid a man to take down the family barn because they had a bad winter up here and the old structure had collapsed on itself. Driving up North Road and looking over to not see the barn sitting there was an eerie sight, but what we did see was an incredible sunset that hasn’t been able to be seen from the house in over 100 years. Being able to walk around on the new dirt where the barn once was made it finally feel right after I had protested for many years that we keep it up to shape
Next weekend the rest of the family is coming in for the big family camp out. Just imagine upwards of 40 overly-tipsy Irish people around a big fire in an old cow pasture telling stories of old and then you have a typical northern Fenlon family reunion.