jermalism: Abandonment Issues: Yelverton Hiding House

On a chilly afternoon in early February 2012, while driving throughout the City of Kawartha Lakes hunting for abandoned houses, we stumbled upon the Yelverton Hidden House, just east of the unincorporated area known as Yelverton.

Even in the dead of winter, the house was hard to spot, set far back from the road in a cluster of bare foliage. The aged untreated wood of the old house camouflaged in the thick amalgamation of tree branches and long brown grasses. A lengthy overgrown driveway was home to small patches of snow, in some spots masking sheets of glare ice. We hurriedly made our way into the brush and behind the house, so as to avoid detection from the neighbour directly across the road.

Out back, wood piles and an assortment of odds and ends were found in the attached garage, which was showing signs of structural damage caused by years of mother nature's unrelenting wrath.

A spring in your step

INDIA TEA

Inside the home, we were startled. Not by the raccoons heard scurrying in their inner wall dens. Not by the mould and decay, or the structural damage, or the rotting corpse of a furry little critter. No, we were briefly startled by a rookie mistake - Ninja's cell phone rang. And so as she slowly paced around and described the house to her mother on the phone, I allowed my mind to wander, as my feet did the same. All of the questions the explorer continually ponders cycled through my head...

How long has this old home been abandoned? This income tax form on the floor is dated 1946. What is the brown liquid in this old CROWN jar on the cabinet? Who ate these Laura Secord chocolates, and when? I wonder when was the last time someone wore this navy blue suit jacket hanging on the wall? What memories were made in this suit, what functions were attended? Was the thread on the shelf ever used to sew tears in the suit jacket? When was the last time someone swatted a fly with this dirty old swatter? Was it the raccoons that shredded these curtains, or have they just slowly disintegrated over time? Should I go upstairs, or wait for Ninja to finish up on the phone? I should at least tell her to go outside in case I fall through the floor.

Rusty Shackleford

Sofa king...

Desperate times call for desperate pleasures

OLD TIME-HOME MADE Laura Secord CANDIES

All sewn up

Flyswatted

You can't handle the truth

1946 Tax return form

WE'VE BEEN CHUMS FOR FIFTY YEARS

Please take a seat

Please break a seat

Orange you glad I didn't say...

Suit up

The webs we weave

CROWN jar of brown liquid

Today is yesterday's tommorow

Curtain call

Up up and away

Upstairs, I continue to ponder, but with Ninja finished her conversation and in tow, I'm now asking these questions aloud. Rhetorically, of course...

The decay is remarkable, I wonder how long it took after the residents left for the water damage to start this process? How much longer could this place possibly have before nature swallows it whole? I wonder if this belt and tie hanging behind the bedroom door were ever worn with the suit jacket downstairs? What is this thing with the dials and exposed wires sitting on the muddy floor at my feet? I wonder how many people have been through here since they left? One couch, one chair, one tie, one belt, one suit jacket, do you think this is all they left behind, or has everything else been pilfered over the years? What am I doing here?

Shadow boxing