This is Yvonne's house.
She happened upon my blog a couple of weeks ago and wrote to tell me how much she enjoyed
it and my story of how I met my house.
She included this photo of her own historic cottage. Isn't it gorgeous?
I asked if she would mind if I shared with my readers and she said she didn't
but would send more recent photos.
Here it is all decked out for fall. I have never seen a house quite like this. The lovely yellow stone,
the french doors to the porch, the window boxes, the porch...all of it so beautiful.
She also told me the story of how she came to live in this home.
Which is very special in itself and I include here....
How I Met My House
My husband and I lived in the same house for 20 years and he swore he would never move. But, somewhere along the way, he changed his mind. In 1999, we moved from a contemporary home in the country to a lovely Dutch colonial home in a historic area in the city of Louisville known as the Highlands. We shared a driveway with our neighbor and had no room for a garage. My husband decided he was ready to give up his sports car anyway.
Seven years later, he changed his mind again and we became the proud owners of a 1967 Mustang Fastback. You simply cannot own an old historic car and not keep it garaged. So, he set out to find a new house for us, even though I loved the house we already had. We both loved the Highlands and wanted to stay in this area. After several months of house hunting, the holidays were approaching and we agreed that we should probably postpone moving until spring. The Mustang remained parked in a garage at my son’s house.
About a week later, he met me at my bus stop as I was coming home from work and said “Get in. I’ve found it”. I let out a frustrated sigh as he had drug me to countless other houses in the past that were nothing like what I wanted. He drove only 7 blocks to an adorable stone English tudor cottage, complete with his garage and with my most favorite architectural feature - arched windows. He was right – he had found it. It had just come up on the market that week. Within 24 hours, that house was ours.
We moved into our new home on December 6, 2006. Two days later my husband died in his sleep from a heart attack at the age of 57. People have asked me how difficult it is to live in this house without him. After 36 years of marriage, life without him is difficult, period. But, I doubt that I would have stayed in the other house without him. Too large, too many memories. I feel like he picked this house out for me to begin my new life. And, it has given me something else to focus on rather than simply being alone. After all, old houses do need a lot of attention. All the landscaping and concrete had to be ripped out and redone. New windows were next, along with new gutters, new paint….the list goes on.
I will admit – this is pretty darn close to being my dream house. I could always use a little more room but then I would just accumulate more “stuff”. I could do without the old cracking plaster and the leaky roof. But, every time I pull into my driveway, a little smile erupts from my lips. When a house brings someone this much joy, it is perhaps the perfect house!
And, yes, I still have the Mustang!
A little glimpse inside. I'd love to see more of that sun room.
I love the french doors right off the dining room. I'd like to have those myself.
I have asked Yvonne to start her own blog but she says it sounds like too much work.
I couldn't deny that.
So perhaps Yvonne will periodically send me photos of her house and garden for me to share.
I think that would be nice. Don't you?