Little Red Brick Schoolhouse
I work and write in this place. It’s an 1894 one-room schoolhouse near my home. I’m honored to occupy a space where a young teacher once stoked a fire and waited for her students to arrive. Where children of all ages crowded onto wooden benches and shared primers and slates. Where they held ciphering matches and spelling bees and recitations. Where stories were told, and where now, I get to tell even more.
Below you can see the beginning of a 4-year labor of love.
The Little Red Brick Schoolhouse …
a birthday present from my in-laws.
Built in 1894 and
used a school until 1940.
I’m thankful the previous
owners covered the windows
to keep out the weather!
Two front doors…
one for boys, one for girls.
but the ceiling was still a mess of
falling plaster and raccoon manure.
And lots of junk to clean out.
Look what beauty remains!
Can’t you see it? As it was?
And as it could be? I can!
Goodbye old shed!
What wasn’t original must go!
And, goodbye, nasty old ceiling!
and rotted, old eaves!
Hello, new bell tower!
We’re on our way!
The schoolhouse at night.
I took this photo from my bicycle on a gorgeous summer evening.
I'm always adding to my small collection of original art from picture book illustrators.
The outhouse may have been OK for the one room schoolhouse teacher, but I have indoor plumbing.
My grandmother's writing desk where the teacher's desk might have stood.
The table is ready for the monthly gathering of my local critique group, The Pencil Pixies.