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New Adventures

We are crazy – no other explanation or adjective comes close to encompassing the enormity of what we have done. As our friends have approached retirement, we have watched them sell their suburban houses in favor of a condo at the beach or on the ocean or the golf course. Some have opted for living in Old Town Alexandria within walking distance of shops, restaurants and the Potomac River. At the very least they have downsized from the substantial homes in which they raised their families to a dwelling which will accommodate occasional and short term visitors and demand far less from them as owners and caretakers.

We bought a farm . Actually we bought a 200 + year old house that just happens to come with 45 acres, a pond and river frontage. It also came with cows. Believe me when I say that this is not what we were looking for during the year we house hunted. We wanted a historic home in reasonably good repair on a few acres close to Charlottesville. We got a house built between 1780 and 1820 with systems in various states of disrepair on way too much land and farther from town than we wanted to be.

I think the house chose us. This property kept popping up on our radar as we looked at other properties. Our real estate agent had met with the owners about listing it months before we saw it and we had seen photos. Months later we were driving through the area checking out another piece of property and drove past the house. Two weeks later it showed up in the MLS and we decided to look. Three days after looking we were under contract. As bemused as our kids and we were by our choice, the inescapable fact was this place felt like home.

We had decided only a few days before that we were going to concentrate on selling our DCMetro area house and moving into our vacation house until we found the right house. The right house had other plans. Our home of 33 years sold in 3 days for 10% over asking ( super hot real estate market) and we were packed and ready to move 4 weeks later.

I packed, sorted, donated, cried and cursed my offspring who had left way too much of their childhood in our possession. We moved it all into 5000 square feet plus an outbuilding knowing full well we would have to do a lot of repacking when renovations began. That however is a story for another blog post or many blog posts …

Documenting our journey is a way to remind ourselves how blessed we are, how we should always find joy in the journey and how owning this house is seriously a dream come true.


Living with Ghosts

When we bought Glen Burnie we knew very little about the history of the house. The day we moved in was the day that former residents began to educate us. As we began to unpack prior to the renovation/restoration we had a series of experiences which convinced us that we were not alone in the house and these other occupants were opinionated!

The first thing we realized was that these folks did not particularly like George Washington. Day 1 a painting of Mt Vernon rose up off the mantle and tried to hit Ran in the back of the head. Later that same painting came off the wall for no reason and smashed into the dining room floor. We started to notice that small items would be moved in the house as if someone was inspecting them and occasionally relicating them to a preferred location.

As we began to meet people in the area we were often asked how we were getting along with the ghosts and it seemed like everybody had a story. Ran was skeptical while I started researching previous owners to try to pin an identity on our roommates. A lot of people have lived and died here, but since the spirits take a proprietary interest in the house and the time period fits, I focused on the original builder/owner and his family.

Elijah Hutchison is credited with expanding the original one over one dwelling into the manor house which was the centerpiece of a 950 acre plantation. He is buried in the cemetery along with his wife Louisa Minor (we think) and his grandson Chiles Terrell Barker Jr. Louisa was 35 when she married 52 yr old Elijah in 1822. She gave birth to her only child, Mary Louisa Hutchison, in 1823 and passed away in 1828. Elijah remained alone in the house until his death in 1841. Their daughter grew up at Bracketts, a nearby plantation owned by her aunt and uncle. Within 2 weeks of her father’s death Mary married her 1st cousin once removed Chiles Terrell Barker and moved back into Glen Burnie where she gave birth to 4 of her eventual 12 children.
Her second son, Chiles Jr was born in 1845 and passed away in December of 1847. That spring his father began selling off parcels of land. By 1849 the family had relocated to Christian County Kentucky to a house they also named Glen Burnie. Today the Barker family still operates Barker Beef on the property.

During construction the ghosts delighted in playing tricks with the security system. Random doors would be left open according to the system and then miraculously close themselves at 2 am. Tools would be in different rooms than they were left. Workmen would put something down and later find it across the room or under a pile of blueprints. The front door would slam shut if anyone left it open for any length of time and occasionally it would open on its own as someone approached. By the time we finished everyone was a believer. They said Good Morning and Good Night to the unseen occupants every day.

we have heard so many different stories and have come to believe that mostly Louisa, Elijah and their grandson are still hanging out at Glen Burnie. Life short changed all 3 of them so I guess they have stayed to keep each other company and to keep an eye on us. So when the door opens or closes by itself, or the tvs randomly turn on in rooms we don’t use or the dog sits by a chair and stares at someone we can’t see, we just say hello and wish them well. They will most likely be here long after we are gone or just maybe we will linger too and keep an eye on future owners!

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

The Good

Glen Burnie is part of 16,000 acres of protected land in the Green Springs National Landmark Historic District. The property is stunning – pastoral views give way to vistas of the Southwest Mountains with magnificent sunsets. The pond is beautifully serene and we have some amazing trees, some of which are over 150 yrs old. The cows add a surprisingly homey touch to the pastures. The house has history, presence and potential.

We count ourselves fortunate to be caretakers of this wonderful place, although frequently a little out of our element. We are rapidly becoming familiar with farming courtesy of Google. The first calf prompted a rapid search to determine which part of the calf comes out first 😂. Turns out legs are okay. Bushhogging, haying, raking all have become part of our vocabulary. Turns out learning new things and acquiring new skills keeps you young and occasionally panic stricken.

The Bad

The process of restoring a 200 yr old house is like peeling layers off an onion – slow, painstaking and likely to produce tears. Glen Burnie has yielded its share of surprises but nothing so horrific that we regretted our decision to bring her back. The hvac, plumbing and electrical have for the most part been completely replaced. We have a sneaking suspicion that when something went awry with the plumbing in one bathroom the previous owners just moved on to the next one. One pretty horrific discovery was that the main sewage line leaving the house had been repaired using duct tape and corrugated garden drainage pipe 🤢. Our first experience with the absolutely hideous kitchen was that there was so much grease in vent hood filters that it dripped constantly onto the cooktop. I have not cooked or showered at the house since we bought it. Thank goodness that our lake house is only 15 miles away.

The Ugly

There are several inexplicable design choices which previous owners made at Glen Burnie. The master bathroom is missing a bathtub or shower effectively reducing it to a half bath. We met our bathtub at the neighbor’s house around the corner. It is a lovely antique cast iron claw foot tub. In its place the last owners built a bench . While the view from the bathroom window is lovely, I cannot fathom having the desire to spend a great deal of time hanging out in the bathroom looking out the window UNLESS you have a bad case of stomach flu and are just too damn tired to crawl back to bed. Last but not least are the alligators residing in tacky splendor atop the brick pillars at the entrance to the farm. Someone even took the time to paint their teeth white! I asked the president of the local preservation group if she knew the story behind them and she confessed ignorance. I have taken to dressing them up for holidays – santa hats at Christmas which prompted my husband to contribute elves for their mouths. Easter brought bunny ears and bows for their necks. The 4th of July is patriotic ribbon and flags. I shudder to think how I am going to make them into carnivorous Pilgrims for Thanksgiving.

Stay tuned for a look at the original builder and the families who have been privileged to call Glen Burnie home.