These are the real thing, the simple, small log cabins that are emblematic of the Appalachians. A settler with little more than an ax to fell the trees and notch the logs could put up a shelter single handed -- if he stuck to small diameter logs. There was wood in plenty and fields to be cleared. The same trees provided the wooden shakes or shingles for roofing and wood to shutter the few windows. And the land supplied the rocks for the chimney, the clay for the chinking.
And in this house, Clifford and Louise raised four sons; in this house, as Louise told the story, one memorable Decoration Day, she fed Sunday dinner to some forty people in shifts. I imagine them crowding the porches and swarming in and out of the little house, gobbling up a garden's worth of beans, pone after pone of cornbread, sausage and sidemeat, maybe a stack cake, possibly two -- Louise knew there would be company coming but was surprised at the number -- sweet milk and buttermilk till there was none left in the spring box . . .
You can cram a lot of living into a small space.