Allison - French Country Cottage

French Country Cottage

Courtney Allison

Photographs by Courtney Allison

French Country Cottage

Digital Edition 1.0

Text 2018 Courtney Allison

hoto Copyright Courtney Allison

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except brief portions quoted for purpose of review.

Gibbs Smith

P.O. Box 667

Layton, Utah 84041

Orders: 1.800.835.4993

www.gibbs-smith.com

ISBN: 978-1-4236-4893-2

For Grammy, one of my closest friends.

Thank you for always loving and believing in me and the little house that could.

I once wrote a blog post about the girl behind the curtain.

Like the powerful Wizard of Ozwho was full of confidence and made magic happen but behind that curtain facade was merely an ordinary man afraid to share his realness with the worldI share rooms, vignettes, simple DIY projects, and an occasional personal post on my blog French Country Cottage, though I havent always felt ready to share more about what was behind that curtain: a sometimes complicated, always dream-filled girl with her head in the clouds, who found inspiration everywhere and who saw things a little differently a lot of the time.

I believe my love for all things sprinkled with a bit of whimsy and romance, and embracing that romantic style, started as far back as when I was a young girl in my childhood neighborhood. I grew up on a tree-lined street in Northern California that had houses set on spacious pieces of land filled with walnut orchards, overgrown shrubs, and an abundance of crickets chirping in the pond up the road. It was a slice of the countryside, though it was just a short walk to a busy East Bay downtown.

In that neighborhood I first discovered my love of flowers, of home, and of the romance and fascination that a house and other things with history held. Down the road from our home was a historic mansion set in the middle of a large lawn behind tall iron gates. It made an impression upon me from a young age, and I remember wondering what was inside and what kind of stories it could tell. It wasnt regal or perfect; it was crumbling a bit, but it inspired a love for original above new, and I fell in love with things that had history or a story.

Always a creative type growing up, I was a daydreamer who longed for adventure, and after high school, I loaded my car with a couple of boxes and decided to explore a bit in search of a place where I belonged.

I found myself pausing for work as I drove through a small town in Montana, and that first trip on the icy roads to my new job also led me to the man who would become my husband. The sweetest boy I had ever met, he took me bareback horse riding, and while watching those Montana sunsets, we fell in love. We bought a home and started a family, and after our first son was born, our travels took us to a farmhouse on 120 acres in the Midwest, where our second son and daughter were born. I loved the farm life there, with a big red barn and animalsa horse, chickens, and turkeys. It was idyllic, but I found myself missing family more than ever. We moved back to California, where not long after, we found this old cottage on acreage. And it was in this cottage that I would also find much of that fairytale life I had imagined.

I have always been passionate about decorating and making a house a home, and I feel fortunate that I grew up in a house where imagination and reinvention played a huge part in our lives. My parents are both creative types in different ways, and I might be a literal mishmash of them. I remember watching my dad, a contractor and real estate agent, sketch floor plans and jot notes with his chunky yellow construction pencil while he dreamed up ways to change our home. He was always renovating something, always seeing a space for what it might become rather than what it was.

My mother was creative with design in her own way, bringing home a zebra-print sofa with hot pink pillows, and regularly moving the furniture and redecorating. I honestly never knew what the house would look like when I got home from school each daywhich, I have to admit, was kind of exciting. I was always eager to see how those pieces and the room would feel with everything shifted into a different light.

My grandparents were much the same. They moved to a small historic town when I was five years old and together designed and built a home, with my grandfather doing much of the work himself. It was another example for me of how listening to and curating that creative vision can bring what you imagine to life.

Looking back now, I can see that some memories of my childhood home and growing up might have been the spark for my grown-up style. Some of the reimagining of spaces. The constant change in decor. The visions for what something could look like with a little bit of love rather than what was right in front of me. I think each of those things play a part in my style and how I look at rooms and homes today and are why I knew that this house was something that could be much more than it seemed at first glance.

It began in a 1940s cottage in California. It wasnt the pretty storybook house that you might imagine a country cottage to be. It wasnt charmingit wasnt even livable when we first saw it. To be honest, the real estate agent told us to bulldoze it and build new on the acreagethat was where the value was. But in spite of it having been vandalized and forgotten for over sixty years, there was something about the house itself that we were strangely drawn to the very first time we pulled into the driveway. There was a feeling that this was perfect for our family and had the potential to be that charming cottage we longed for. From first glance, I envisioned my kids running through the yard, evenings by the fireplace, and a place where countless dreams and memories could be made.

I saw Home.

Of course, I also saw the workand it was not for the faint of heart. It was a bit overwhelming, to be honest. There were broken windows in every room, ceilings that were nothing but open rafters looking into the attic, and a bathroom lacking even the basics for usability. There was much to do to even be able to move in, and then to renovate it to make it inviting. And our budget wasnt mighty, which gave us a bit of pause. But in my heart, the energy of this house and property felt right. And so we took a chance.

We replaced windows and siding, refinished hardwoods, and took out light bulbs hanging by wires and put crystal chandeliers in their place. Bit by bit, we saw that vision coming to life. It didnt happen overnight; it happened over years while we lived in the middle of the project and while listening to and learning how we lived in the house, which showed us what directions to go. There were crazy discoveries, hours of pounding nails with my dad, and many nights of pizza because the kitchen wasnt functionalalong with frustrations, tears, and many laughs, some out of sheer exhaustion. Those first renovation years are filled with some of the memories we laugh most about now, and those early years in the house were when so many sparks and ideas began to form and take shape