Feltwell said:It's been inhabited by many businesses in the time I've known it, all of which seem to have gone bust! It's not in a great location for a business, it's on the outskirts of town so all the tourists are less likely to find it -
LadyArowana said:[selling antiques now, wonder if anyone here would like this for the top of a chicken coop
Feltwell said:...........................................all of whom seem to leave poorer than when they arrived.
Feltwell said:If you're spending that kind of money ......
My first listed fixer-upper (almost derelict) had a very old, very rotten and very narrow dogleg staircase, which still had three 15th-century sold oak treads in it. The rest of it had spent several hundred years acting as breakfast to generations of anobium punctatum and would have collapsed under the weight of a largish feather.Feltwell said:In one of the upstairs rooms there are some floorboards that are hinged, reputedly to allow coffins to be passed down to the ground floor below! The house has a narrow spiral staircase which coffins won't fit down easily.
Penners said:The Buildings Inspector said it had to go and be replaced with something that we could get a coffin down. .
robgil said:What happens if you die downstairs? or in the garden?
CatherineB said:Penners said:The Buildings Inspector said it had to go and be replaced with something that we could get a coffin down. .
:lol: For the sake of the H&S of the corpse, I presume... :roll:
Betj wrote:
Remove those cottages, a huddled throng!
Too many babies have been born in there,
Too many coffins, bumping down the stair,
Carried the old their garden paths along.
LadyArowana said:Feltwell said:It's been inhabited by many businesses in the time I've known it, all of which seem to have gone bust! It's not in a great location for a business, it's on the outskirts of town so all the tourists are less likely to find it -
Selling antiques now, wonder if anyone here would like this for the top of a chicken coop
Robert William Service said:Deeming that I was due to die
I framed myself a coffin;
So full of graveyard zeal was I,
I set the folks a-laughing.
I made it snugly to my fit,
My joinering was honest;
And sometimes in it I would sit,
And fancy I was non est.
There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”