It's not every day when one of your favorite neighborhood cottages goes on the market. On Sunday, we got that lucky when we drove by the prettiest cottage in East Memphis and noticed a "For Sale" sign and another sign for an open house. Score! Because we've been admiring this sweet cottage for two and a half years, we decided to be nosy and check it out. As we walked three blocks to the cottage, we discussed how much we thought the house was worth. It turns out that we guessed $200,000 less than what the house is actually worth. Yikes. I guess that's why it's called a dream cottage!
I was pleasantly surprised by the spaciousness of my dream cottage. It was really roomy for a house built in 1940. I was a little disappointed by the addition, but in my opinion, most additions are disappointing. The house itself has great bones, but it hasn't been touched since the 1960s, and it needs to be lovingly restored. I wish I had an endless supply of money so I could fix up old houses. It, like so many others in our neighborhood, has the potential to be so quaint and lovely. It even has a name - Holly Hodge! My English roots were rejoicing.
The garden was just wonderful as I imagined, and it lived up to its English roots. Huge (this house sits on a whole acre) and slightly overgrown with antique furniture and pots scattered throughout, it too had serious potential. Jonathan and I think it was built by someone who loved the English cottage style. Too bad there aren't more of them around this town!
The front of my Memphis dream cottage.
The screened-in back porch was also amazing. The brick floor was a really cool feature, and the whole space was really airy and bright. Ignore the scary ceiling fan, and focus on the bead board... The garden...
The back view of the house and the pretty pergola.
Jonathan and I love our home and will most certainly never be able to afford a house like this, but we left the open house buzzing with thoughts and ideas. I love to take the best parts of a place and incorporate them into our own home. Maybe we'll be able to make our own backyard more like an English garden. Maybe one day we'll have a screened-in porch like this. Maybe one day we'll restore a home to its glory days. The possibilities are endless.
Don't you love to dream?
Right now, my family and I are coming to terms with the fact that after seven years, it is time to sell my grandmother's home in Los Angeles. I know it's just a house and that my grandmother has been gone for seven years, but when I go there, I feel like I'm closer to her. I've been going to that house since I was 3 months old, and thousands of my memories are there. Along with my paternal grandmother's home in Italy, it is the only childhood home that I have left. To say I'm devastated is an understatement.
This is why I have to dream. When I consider that part of my reality, I feel very, very sad inside.
I'm currently trying to figure out how to root plants so I can bring them home to Memphis.
Yes, I may be crazy.