We lived in a Colonial Stone Farmhouse

We inherited a colonial farmhouse (called The Cub Hill House - the area around it was named after it) from my husband's parents. The original huge amount of land around it that had been farmed for several centuries had been sold off for development in the 1930s and all was left was three acres and the farmhouse and surrounding buildings. His parents could only afford the house, some buildings plus 2 acres. Another person bought the falling down barn and turned the slightly more modern garage into their house. 

The house was a wreck, a real fixer-upper and when we moved in, we continued the fixing up. The house used a hand-dug well that often ran dry in the summertime until the 1980s when we finally connected to the city water lines. The reason his parents had never gotten city water was that the water lines didn't pass our house.  The development built on the Cub Hill house land, got city water the minute the houses were built. We didn't have access until a development was built on the wooded lot across the street.

The house had no inside heat.  So his parents used kerosine heaters, which produced a greasy deposit on everything.  And it could only get the temperature in the house up to about 50 degrees in the wintertime. (Winter temperatures go below freezing often in Maryland winters -- at least it used to.) Each room also had fireplaces.  (of course -- Colonial times that's the way they cooked and heated.)  So my husband and his brother also used them in their bedrooms  the wintertime. 

After we moved in, we helped fund electrical heat in the kitchen/ dining room and began using a wood stove to heat the living room - which brought the temperature up into the 70s. nice.   We still used individual portable electric heaters in our bedrooms.  

Shoveling out after snowstorms was still difficult because of the long driveway to reach the road.  My husband used a snowplow attachment to his heavy duty lawnmower (a Gravely) to do a lot of it, but we also had to do a lot of hand shoveling. 

Now you know why I moved to southern California to be with my girls after my husband died -- I just couldn't handle the upkeep of this property by myself. 

There's an article about this house on Wikipedia which is only halfway correct.  The original writer actually used a picture of a different house that was build down the road from the actual Cub Hill House and some of his information was wrong.  My husband corrected the entry several times, but the original writer kept changing it back.  Too Bad. 

It was declared a historical site some years ago.  Near that traffic speed sign is a plaque stating it. 

Cub Hill House in Maryland

This is a front view of our old house (built in 1740) in Maryland.  It's called The Cub Hill house and the neighborhood around it is called Cub Hill. 

    There are 2 acres of land attached to this house, the remains of acres and acres of the original farmland that was sold off for development. That's when my husband's parents bought the house and the 2 acres. The house was a wreck and they spent a long time making it habitable, living in it all the while. They couldn't afford to buy the other acre and a half where the barn was located, so another person bought that. The property was overgrown and his parents bought several goats (male goats are very stinky) to chomp on the underbrush until they finally had space for a lawn. Parts still are wooded area, but there is a large front and back lawn. 

Another part is where there was a quarter acre garden that I planted and took care of and canned the produce. We moved in (with two children) to help his older parents take care of the place because it was getting to be too much for them. Then we inherited it. But we were both working full time, so no more garden. 

This is the front of the house which used to face Old Harford Road (when it was called The Harford Road, but over the years the road has moved away from the house and now runs along side it. Because of that, we never used the front entrance, just one of the three back entrances to access the back yard and the car parking area. 

When my husband died, I knew my granddaughter and I couldn't keep it up ourselves. (it was a huge job to shovel out to the road during snowstorms) So I sold the place and moved to California where my children are now living. (yay - no more snow)