So the numbered pieces were loaded and transported up to the farm. As it was being unloaded, Stanbury stood there, scratched his head, looked at my Dad, and said, "What ar we supposed to do with this?" Dad looked at him and smiled, "Build a house." This where it got interesting.
We were always sanding and stripping the ornate moldings, adding insulation to the rooms (there was never enough), paneling rooms (it was not unusual to be in a room with bare insulation showing between the studs), or painting or staining some surface. And yes, Stanbury was right - we were constantly having to replace shingles. It never ended. When Mama sold the farm, the house still had unfinished rooms - and that was 30 years after we built it.