The Devil Queen

How my wife and I sold our souls to the Queen Anne Victorian we tried to save.

My Photo
Location: Crow Mountain, Arkansas, United States

Synopsis: This is a cautionary tale. A seriously disturbed couple find the charming, old ruin of a Queen Anne Victorian in Russellville, Arkansas, and buy it for $1.00. They tore the roof off, cut it in half, and had it moved to some land they owned sixteen miles away because they didn't know any better. Since then, they have hired and fired contractors, had all of their tools stolen, re-wired, re-plumbed, insulated, and essentially rebuilt the entire house. Their only problem is that after four years it still isn't finished. Now they are tired, broke, and wonder what in the hell it is they've done to themselves. And, it's haunted.
(Last updated on April 3, 2008)

Press: Russellville Courier Article - December 2003, HGTV website article, AP story - October 2006, and Victorian Homes Magazine - February 2008 (link coming soon).
Art: From time to time, I receive requests for my art. If you would like to look at more of my art, go to The Failed Artist. If you would like to buy my art, email me. I am more than happy to answer any questions you might have. Thanks!

Thursday, September 29, 2005

Genetic Inheritance

Nature or nurture? What are we born with and what do we learn?

Personally, I feel let down by genetic inheritance. Most of what I got really isn't too exciting: brown hair, big nose, and ultra-sensitive skin. What I wish I'd inherited is all the generations of carpentry skills my family possessed. The conventional scientific wisdom is carpentry is a learned skill. Unfortunately, we are not born with a full knowledge of how to cut a perfect miter joint, frame a house, or calculate the correct slope for a roof. Instead, all we get is a crappy sucking reflex.

If the laws of nature could be flaunted in my favor, I would have been born an uber-carpenter. Both of my great-grandfathers were carpenters. My maternal great-grandfather was a Norwegian boat-builder turned carpenter once he came to the U.S. He worked on the Frank Lloyd Wright's Unity Temple in Oak Park (suburb of Chicago), Illinois. My paternal grandfather was a master-carpenter, a contractor, and a lock smith.

Since then, my family has migrated from crafts and trades to white collar professions. Some of the old carpentry skills have tricked down (I remember my dad teaching me how to toe-nail when I was about 4 or 5), but it's been a pretty feeble inheritance. Even though we share the same ancestry, I am bear as close a resemblance to a master-carpenter as Chihuahua does to a wolf.

Even though I enjoy building things, I don't honestly want to spend my life working as a professional carpenter. Having the skills of one would be very useful though.


Blogger Gary said...

You need to summon Greg's fairies! Better still, summon Greg!

(That is "Petch House Greg" in case you aren't a houseblog reader.)

10:40 AM  
Blogger John said...

Is there some sort of ritual I need to perform for that? And, what do I need to throw in so he'll bring a case of Downtown Brown with him?

12:21 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home

Free Web Site Counter
Website Counter