In September 1930, a modern new building on Pleasant Street opened for business as Cynthiana's new city hall. Designed by the Lexington firm of Churchill & Gillig,*  the "modern" two-story brick  building presents a restrained facade. A loggia extends across the ground floor and elements of the Craftsman Commercial style are evident along the cornice. Only slight embellishments adorn the exterior: touches of limestone trim at the wide openings along the stepped parapet, and oval medallions at either end of the facade.

Earlier this morning, after I found my flat-bed scanner (underneath the futon in the guest room), I  scanned a torn black and white photograph of a stately Tudor Revival house. The photograph bears the embossed mark of the photographer, Brown & Dawson of Stamford, Connecticut. Nothing is written on the back of the image, save for the instructions on how to order duplicates on the negative.

Mason County, Kentucky, teems with historic farms, rural villages and hamlets, and of course, the wonderful county seat of Maysville, located on the Ohio River. I'll be speaking there on Sunday, October 5, 2025 at 2pm. The Mason County Historical Society graciously invited me to talk about my journeys across Kentucky and the stories I record via the historic buildings of our Commonwealth.

I've been living in the past lately (more so than usual) as I delve into the creation of the "super highway system" in Kentucky. This necessitates a great deal of browsing time in historic newspapers, where I am prone to distraction by an interesting story or photograph, a distraction that inevitably leads me down an unrelated rabbit hole. But no historian can ignore the entreaty of a rabbit hole of research - for who knows what might be found there?

A sprawling Mission-style bakery complex, once lauded as "the finest west of New York," appears poised for restoration and rebirth. The Whiteside Baking Company, which opened in 1908, has been purchased by a Florida-based spirits company that plans to open a distillery and tasting room in the complex on West Broadway Street. Von Payne Whiskey, a brand featuring gargoyle-topped bottles, describes the concept for the Whiteside Building as the "Von Payne Castle Distillery and Tasting Experience."*

The start of the school year still inspires me, though I am sadly not heading off to the halls of academia myself. I like the edging of summer into fall, and the promise of cooler weather energizes my mental faculties - usually resulting in a great many "to do" lists that will languish once winter hits, and my productivity collides with the allure of hot chocolate and a good book.

A surprise demolition last Thursday in the Downtown Paris Historic District provides credence to some tired truths.*  The circa 1875 W. B. Erringer House, demolished at the behest of its owner, the Catholic Diocese of Lexington, underscores America's willingness to tear down and destroy. The reason circulated by many for the demolition is the need for additional parking for the church.

During July, which slipped away just last week, I reveled in the cool temperatures of Northern Michigan and sagged and sweated in the sultry 95-degree days in Clinton County, Kentucky. I took many photographs in each location, but I failed to write any blog posts last month. Now, with summer camp over, I'm immersed in the comedy/drama of trying to work from home whilst siblings squabble in the background, I'm not sure…

Between 1890 and 1895, a one-story frame house was built on Mulberry Street in Lebanon, Kentucky. It wasn't very large, maybe three to four rooms, but had a projecting, canted gable on the west side of the facade, and a small porch. It was the only dwelling on that block of Mulberry Street at that time; the other frame buildings were outbuildings for the large houses on East Main Street.

Years ago, I fell in love with what I call the central cross gable, which looks like a peaked, triangular shaped projection on the long side of a side gable house. My great-great-great grandfather's house, built in 1844, sports this feature (I like to call it a "CCG") and I like how it can give an otherwise unadorned façade a bit of whimsy and character.

While Columbus, Indiana deserves its reputation as "the Athens of the Prairie" for its collection of mid-century modern architecture, my recent stop there found me captivated by a historic building of a different sort, one with roots extending back to the last quarter of the 19th century. The Crump Theater, an outstanding Art Moderne/Art deco movie theater, has a complicated history and an uneven - but optimistic - future path.

In February, I ordered my tomato seeds, for I determined that this was the year for me to start all of my own tomato plants! I would save money and grow delicious heirloom varieties destined for canning jars or tomato sauce. On April 1, assembly of the grow lights and planting of the seeds into pots commenced. Two months later, after a cool and wet spring, my tomato plants, which had happily germinated, resembled nothing more than sulky teenagers.

The drone of the cicadas (Brood 14 is in full voice after 17 years of dormancy!) and the sudden escalation in temperatures makes me think of hazy August days, winding down a rural Kentucky road. I came across the Lick Spring United Baptist Church and the neighboring Prater Cemetery on one such August afternoon. While I failed to unearth any historic background on the building or the congregation, the setting of the church and the nearby cemetery is really quite lovely.

It's been an odd spring. Actually, odd is becoming (has ready become?) the new normal. We've been very wet, and lest you think I am relying on my handwritten notes recounting rainfall amounts (scribbled on the calendar on our fridge), greater minds than mine confirm my assessment. Lexington has received 20 inches of rain since March 1! All that precipitation translates into a lack of sunlight, and chilly soil temperatures.

One of the fun facts I recall learning in elementary school - after memorizing all 120 counties, which has actually been beneficial in my career - is that Kentucky has, after Alaska, more navigable miles of water than any other state in the country. Without these waterways, the development of Kentucky in the late 18th and early 19th century would have been radically different.

One of the things I love most about the study of vernacular architecture is how the same form or plan of a house can be built over long spans of time, so that a house built in 1831 in Nelson County, Kentucky, can look quite similar to a house built in 1805 in Fayette County, Kentucky - the chief difference being variations in exterior ornamentation.

Mother's Day was yesterday, and I celebrated by working almost all day in the garden. This circa 1914 holiday is a curious oddity to me, as it was most stridently not celebrated in my childhood home. When other children worked on Mother's Day cards in elementary school, I made a birthday card for my mother. incapable of subterfuge (or keeping my mouth shut), I loudly announced to my art teacher that I couldn't make a Mother's Day card, because "my mother doesn't believe in it and says that it is just a way for businesses to make money!" Bless Mrs.

I love taking photographs of historic buildings. I do not love labeling my digital images. There are 112 folders in my "Kentucky Counties" file, containing 63,932 jpegs, which take up an estimated 183 gigabytes on my hard drive. I am well aware of my failings, however, and I try to "pop in" to a different county folder each week and attempt some housecleaning - namely, trying to label the jpegs with the address of the buildings pictured.

I am incontrovertibly incapable of research without distractions. If I am searching through historic newspapers on a specific hunt, I never fail to scan the whole page, eyes roving for any interesting tidbit. This is, of course, not without its drawbacks, but since I am also a compulsive list maker, I just add these new notes or rabbit holes to an on-going list (do I often lose my lists?

It's a busy Monday, and amid the bustle of work and life, I don't know when I will be able to write a blog post. But I have determined to steal 15 minutes and share this lovely historic house, in hopes that it brings some joy to your day. Built in 1901 for an insurance agent by the name of Hindman Discoe (a moniker like that simply begs to be in a novel), this three story brick house stands out among many grand neighbors for its fanciful and flamboyant porch.

The circa 1894 Covington Brothers Wholesale Grocery Building in Paducah, Kentucky, at the corner of Jefferson and North Third Streets, is facing a likely emergency demolition. Is there anyone in Paducah who could go take some photographs of all elevations of the building for me before its destruction? The three story brick building, home to the grocery wholesale business for over 30 years, is a victim of deferred maintenance, and the roof has collapsed.

Spring weather in Kentucky is always unpredictable, but when the meteorologists started predicting rainfall amounts last week, my breath caught. On the second of April, I was up most of the night monitoring the tornado warnings. The rain started on Thursday. By the end of the day on Friday, the rain gauge measured six inches. My only worry for our historic house was that the power stayed on and kept the sump pump running.

I celebrate women's history almost every day, first and foremost as a woman and a historian. The notion of containing the recognition of women and their role in our lives and communities to just one month seems stifling and almost silly, but I do recognize the immense value of Women's History Month in educating the larger public. Today's post is timely on two fronts: a 19th century developer and real estate investor, who happened to be a woman, and the precarious fate of one of the houses she left behind, the only one of its kind remaining in Paris, Kentucky.

Author’s Note: The authors and content creators of Gardens to Gables typically attempt to avoid confrontational topics and as such this post may “ruffle the feathers” of ornithologists, entomologists, archaeologists, and Baptists alike. That being said, I speak from a position of observation and no ill feelings are intended. People find the coming spring in many natural signs that surround us this time of year.