December 15, 2006
My own cellar scares me, but not my grandparentsí, even though their house is older. My grandmother whitewashes it every spring, banishing the darkness and making the stone walls look clean and bright again. She painted the stairs dark red just last year. She likes the color: itís warm and homey and, more importantly, doesnít show the dirt. There are rooms in the cellar. Oneís a root cellar, where apples and potatoes are stored in the winter. Another is full of shelves holding bottles of pickles and preserves. Thereís a chute where coal was delivered. You could live there easily.