Well, it’s back to school, back to the gym, back to the routine.  So it would only make sense to get back to Memory Monday posts.

When I heard this story, I was so fascinated and hope one day to be able to visit this building.  Apparently it still exists and has been made into a museum of sorts?  (Correct me if I’m wrong Charlotte).

Here’s the story from my mother-in-law Charlotte:

This picture, taken around 1950, shows me and my brother Peter tending the garden at our parents’ apartment.
In 1948, soon after WWII ended, my parents needed a place to live. What they had was very primitive, and way out in the country, impossible for my father to go to work every day. But living space was scarce, since Vienna and surroundings was bombed out by the Russians, and rebuilding had not begun yet. So, my father heard about the abandoned beautiful spa in a village called Kaltenleutgeben, right outside of Vienna. Nobody had time or money to attend a spa, and the mayor of the town let people, for a small fee, choose a couple of rooms to adapt to living space. And that’s what they did. Their apartment included the big reception hall, fancy with wooden, inlaid ceiling and parket flooring, a smaller room which they made into a kitchen, and, across the hall, a smaller room which ended up serving as the kids’ room. They had to partition the whole thing off the main staircase, install a wood-burning stove in the kitchen, which served as heat source as well
as for cooking, a sink in the kitchen, and a stove in the living room for heating. The toilet was across the hall and shared with the neighbor, and there was no bathroom. Every Friday, the bath tub (stored in a room outside the apartment) was carried into the kitchen, so that every one could take a bath. On the other days, you had to wash at the sink. The laundry room was in the basement, and the clothes had to be washed by hand.
Although there were not many modern amenities, we were better off than most of the other people. My dad was very handy, and we kids did not feel any hardship. For a while, we had chickens, and, of course, we had a garden. We lived there for ten years before my parents bought the house they lived in till they died.
For me, it was a special time for growing up surrounded by nature and without any city stress. For the whole family, it was a very happy time.

Happy Memory Monday and welcome back to … routine.