“I think you need to see this house. I think it could be amazing.”
I won't quickly forget the first time I drove down the dirt road that leads to our hidden cottage. Off of the road, past the neighbors, and down a lane with a car full of children. My favorite past time during this season of life was loading up all the children and driving around with them, looking at property or simply driving, for a bit of time before Daddy got home from work. They were long days. Hard days.
But one of these days, the world changed.
Our friend and realtor had given us the heads up on this wee little farm. It was only a few miles down the road from where we were currently farming (and renting) so driving to view it happened almost immediately.
I'd wanted a larger property. Huge amounts of land to graze and develop.
This home only had two and a quarter acres.
And yet still I found myself, screaming children in tow, driving down the smooth dirt road – honey latte in hand.
Rounding the bend in the road, from behind a perfectly straight row of cherry trees, it popped out to greet me. A little white cottage, long from it's original glory, nestled amongst dated landscaping and not much else.
Even in that state, I knew. I knew I wanted to cultivate beauty here.
A few months later, the time of which I don't really wish to recall because it was so horrendous in a multitude of ways, we found ourselves standing in the dining room of our cottage. Shag carpet. Wood paneling. Aww ya, baby. This was it.
It seems as if most (normal) people tends to gravitate towards suburbia. Towards homes that are done for them. Colors are neutral. Layouts are trendy. Bathrooms and closets are gigantic.
Not so at the cottage.
‘Round these parts, bedrooms are the the size of closets. There's room for beds, a lamp or two, and not much else. Closets are roughly the size of postage stamps. And the single bathroom that exists in our 1909 home is roughly 5×8 feet.
All three bedrooms (and the bathroom) branch directly off the dining room, which branches directly off the kitchen. A few steps up from the kitchen lead you into the living room, an addition that was added on in the 1960's.
In the original part of the house, the freshly refinished fir floors (discovered under 11 coats of paint and shag carpet) bare marks and discolorations from decades past. Light switches are strewn in a variety of odd-places. The floor in the kitchen is so slanted that Lord help the cook that drops an egg. Nothing is square. Everything is patched and plastered.
Almost every contractor we've had to the house disapproves of “old houses” in general and certainly don't take too kindly to our stucco exterior and chicken-wired walls. It's drafty in the winter and warm in the summer.
It's designed for a family to live together – not in their separate spaces.
And yet.
And yet this is our home. This is the home that we chose out of all the others to exist and raise our babies and our farm.
It's all worn. It's all got a story to tell – whether it's ours or someone elses.
But shiny stuff doesn't nearly do it for me like history does.
So my kitchen floor is already showing signs of wear from the herd of monsters we've got running through it all day. A family lives here.
The couch is propped up on a stack of vintage books because the leg popped off. But we read stories on it each night.
The dishes are mismatched, chipped, and oddly shaped. But we sit down to meals three times a day.
The bedrooms are small. But we can snuggle up in our beds together.
This is a family house. The heart is the dining room, the kitchen is the local hangout, and each nook and cranny shows wear and tear. The cottage life, especially one that involves as much animal waste and gardening soil as ours, certainly isn't for everyone. I'm sure there are many who enjoy their pristine, organized, urban existence – and good for 'em! I totally want to come and visit and remember what it's like to have order and cleanliness a normal part of my life.
But if I'm being totally honest, I love the process. I love the mess. This is my farm. And a family lives here.
And Amen.
For more of my ponderings on farm life:
Janet
March 2, 2017 at 4:26 pmWonderfully put, Shaye. Is the kitchen finished, did you ever show us the “after” shots? or did I miss them? If it’s not finished, I totally understand—as I still have tack strip on my pine floors in some rooms–where the carpet was ripped out 2 years ago =)
Charlotte
March 10, 2017 at 11:56 amHaa me too! those pesky tack strips… I also have been wondering if her kitchen was done:)
Ashkia
March 2, 2017 at 6:32 pmI want to see more pics of your house! I love your style..can you come decorate mine? 😉
Amanda
April 28, 2017 at 10:22 amMe too!! I want to see more pictures of your house! Even if it is messy 🙂 None of us can judge lol! I live in a house that was built in 1860. Then added onto in 1982. My house needs a lot of work, but like you I like it’s character and charm. 🙂 I will admit though I am no designer. I would love to see what yours looks like and maybe come up with some ideas. Love your blog! Your amazing!
Julie
March 2, 2017 at 7:50 pmAwww, I love this! We live in a little brick house up in Maine and let me tell you the wind whips right through the old single pane windows, but I love the wavy glass that reminds me how hard somebody worked in 1875 to make this little brick house a home <3
Lee
March 3, 2017 at 12:24 amAt first I was surprised that you guys moved to a house that had only 2 acres but after you showed a picture of the cottage I totally got it. It looks like a very special place. I love old houses. We bought 20 acres with absolutely nothing on them, not even a driveway. Often times, I catch myself trying to figure out how to build a new house that will look old. LOL. I, too, enjoy the journey. Although I dream of the day we will finally move in.
Hannah
March 3, 2017 at 10:29 amWhat a lovely post. I loved reading about how you feel about your home! I hope to have a similar place some day. For now, we’re stuck living in the housing that my job provides. Although, a little house in rural Alaska isn’t too bad either. : )
Miley D.
March 3, 2017 at 2:44 pmRight on Shaye!! Give me history and grandness versus big and new. No thanks! What a beautiful story! God Bless!
Mona
March 3, 2017 at 2:56 pmSo very true! Thank you for giving words to how so many of us feel who are not gifted with creative writing abilities. Love you blog! Love your family! I just ordered the new book and can’t wait to get it.
Jaclyn
March 3, 2017 at 4:45 pmThis is wonderfully put! My husband and I rent our current home, a little house on a quiet lane, in a small town in Texas, with a little land around it. I dreamed of sprawling hills, big barns, and wrap-around porches, but instead, we have flat prairie, lean-tos, and enough porch to put a rocker on.
When I told my husband I thought we should look at other farms, he looked at me and said, “But AJ (our son) was born here. How could we leave?”. Note, my son was born at home and my husband is not sentimental at all….but, he stood his ground, and I’m glad he did. I learned contentment is not measured in square feet or in acres, but in the ability to live out a life I didn’t deserve in the first place. And now to appease my gardener’s heart, he’s building raised beds out front for me and making a stamp for the pathway in the now “extended” flower bed aka what was left of the front yard!
There is something about embracing where you are, appreciating all you have, and loving with all you are that sets a persons world to rights.
Andrea
March 4, 2017 at 6:02 amBeautifully said, AJ. Your and Shaye’s words are excellent reminders to be grateful for what we have and to see the beauty in where we are. Thank you!
Elizabeth
March 5, 2017 at 5:35 pmamen~
Gina
March 22, 2017 at 5:39 pmThis really made me smile. That’s exactly what my husband and I are searching for right now. We’re looking for some land to have a few animals and raise a family. Other than the two of us and our dog, there’s no other family to speak of. Soon that’s going to change. But, first we’ll find our own cottage. 🙂
Mylinda
March 29, 2017 at 9:30 amHey Shaye, I am loving your family farm book and the cook book. Both are absolutely terrific and I recommend them to anyone who wants to do a little farming or the cookbook to anyone who likes to eat real food!
We just bought our little patch of heaven and it’s completely covered in big beautiful oak trees. So we get to clear anywhere we want to use. BIG job!
I’m wondering how much space you use for your pigs, cow, chickens, and you mentioned you have other fowl do you keep them all together? Finally do you ever milk your sheep?
Lisa
April 23, 2017 at 2:08 pmI just came across this and love your words. We are currently driving around (near Mount Rainier) and looking for our place to grow. You are an inspiration 🙂
Cathy Elston
November 25, 2017 at 9:24 pmI just watched your show today on Food network and really enjoyed it. I will watch your shows again. The dinner you fixed looked great and I plan to try the recipes.
Barbi M
November 25, 2017 at 11:40 pmSounds like a wonderful life! Looks beautiful!
Denise
December 29, 2017 at 11:42 amI am a new visitor to your blog; found you through your Pilot on Food Network. My oh my, I am in love! Your blog temporarily takes me to the farm, simple, natural life that I dream of….thank you! I share your passions for healthy, family, cooking, home, animals….and most importantly, Jesus Christ. Thank you for being real and humorous and sharing what you love with others. Can I get an amen?!
Ashley
January 12, 2018 at 1:39 amI found your blog through pinterest and then made it to this article. And i cried. It has reminded me that this little slanted floor house of mine with the drafty windows and doors is my home. And it’s my childrens home. And my husbands home. And it was his fathers home before that. And was built by his parents before that. And it’s not about perfection or pretty things. It’s our home. Thank you so much for the reminder.