This is a badly-cosmetized idea of the original Rockhouse from some years before on which ivy wasn't permitted to climb and possibly destroy the bricks while wisteria was because of the lovely drooping blooms and it covered a large section on the back of the house.
The vandals who bought the place cut down every magnolia shrub my ol' Mother planted and cut down trees and other plantings I did when a new grandkid arrived for the 'rents. Heathen barbarians they are and they ever managed to kill more of the grass than we. Maybe some of the flowers remain but it doesn't appear so and it doesn't appear they kept any of so many rose bushes which went up the walk to the house and along the sidewalk which were planted by Lotho and I, thus beginning the Japanese Beetle Wars.
So the Vandals suck but this was a place of Extreme Weird until that time and it was the center of a whole lot of things for decades during which it lived up to every idea of Clifton eccentricity or complete whacked-out looney, as you wish.
None of the sibs ever forgave the abusive guitar playing and have hated it to this day. That doesn't come overnight, you really have to be an asshole. It was ridiculously loud, it echoed, and it often resulted in feedback. Every part of looney you want to name was coming out of that place in one way or another.
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