While following a road that promised a mine that wasn't there, I stumbled upon something that was. This house was nicely nestled amongst the trees near a large open field that was clearly still being farmed.
The floors inside were dicey, but with few exceptions, there was no sign of a basement beneath. I don't think this place has many more years left in her.
Upstairs, the bed, and the tiny bedroom made me wonder who had lived here, and more importantly, what kind of life had they led? In the absence of additional bedrooms, it was clear that no children resided here. Perhaps it was an old bachelor.
The newspaper (in the gallery) dated 1950 from Toronto caught my interest. There were several yellowed pages strewn around the floor. Had I not been so concerned about how long the floor would support my weight, perhaps I'd have stayed longer to read.