Jack-of-all-trades

The house that Dan built, Vermont Street Portland

Dad was always measuring, sawing, and nailing things. Our sled was homemade, made of polished wood and five feet long. The neighbor kids begged for rides all the time but since everything we had was homemade I secretly wished for a “flyer” with steel runners. We had stilts made of two-by-fours, gymnastic bars made of gas pipes and my first tricycle as all wood (wheels, pedals and all). We had a playhouse with wood furniture made of old boxes, that was complete with windows, doors and closets with adult “dress-up” clothes.

We had a reflection pool complete with water lilies and lots of goldfish to watch. The pool was a Rube Goldberg design of Dad's fed from tubes leading from our water cooled gas refrigerator (Dad was warehouse manager for the gas company so everything in the house was gas). The water filled the pool, then more tubes led the overflow thru ditches to irrigate the tomato plants and the surplus flowed to keep the scotch broom hedge watered that hid the chicken yard from sight as mother felt it was a blight to our terraced and well-landscaped half-acre of grounds on which our modest but attractive house set.

Dad completely built the six-room house himself including plumbing, wiring, painting and wallpapering. In these skills he had no background whatsoever but did an excellent job, sometimes by trial and error. There were three perfectly manicured terraced lawns, ornamental shrubs and trees, a rock garden, a fruit tree area, loads of flowers and a large vegetable garden buffered by a tall privet hedge so as not to be seen from the house or street (the latter at mother's insistence).

The chicken house/tool shed was a replica of the big house, paint, trim, windows and all. When the broom hedge that hid the chicken yard bloomed in spring the big Rock Island Red hens loved to eat the blossoms so during that time of year our egg yolks were orange.

Dad also dug out the large basement-cum-workshop himself, cemented it and installed a large gas furnace. One end was dedicated to a cellar room with wood walls, bins, and shelves which was surrounded by earth and kept food and root vegetables all winter. There were hundreds of jars of canned food in rows; by early fall in addition to sawdust-filled bins of potatoes, carrots, turnips, apples and pears, crocks of sauerkraut and eggs preserved in some horrible gray gelatinous substance that I hated to reach into when asked to bring eggs to the kitchen.

The kitchen was large and boasted a new combination gas and wood stove with warming ovens and pipes running through to heat water when wood was burning. When the water was cool a chain turning on the gas water heater was pulled and a big red flag was displayed to remind Mother to turn it off before it got too hot and exploded, as frequently they did and she frequently almost did.

Losley house in 2012