Finding a Home

Not every little girl dreams of living in an old farmhouse.

Some little girls dream of wide open lofts, exposed brick walls, floor-to-ceiling windows, sharp edges, chrome fixtures, and stainless steel appliances.

But sometimes that little girl may inadvertently marry a dairy farmer and find herself miles and miles from the nearest high-rise apartment building (and civilization in general).

Unlike many newlyweds, I didn’t have a choice when selecting our house. When you househunt with a dairy farmer, you buy a home that is either 1) on land he wants to own or 2) on a farm he wants to own.  The house is just an add-on, an extra; the real selling point for the farmer is the LAND. This was an impossible concept for me to grasp the first time I set foot in what would become our home.

Our house is many, many years older than I. The upstairs has no heat –apparently people in the olden days just slept under piles of blankets and raced downstairs in the morning to change—and the downstairs has no carpet. Originally the walls boasted wood paneling as far as the eye could see.

My first thought when I stepped into our future home was, “Oh Lord. It would be easier to just tear it down.” The house had been standing vacant for three years and it showed. There was a thin layer of dead bugs on the carpet; the water was yellow and smelled like rotten eggs; the wood paneling made the rooms feel dark and claustrophobic. At the end of the tour, I sat down on the dirty floor and cried. This house was not what I had pictured and I didn’t have the foggiest idea how to make it better. The Dairy Man tried to console me, but I hated this house.

I talked in a previous post about raining on the Dairy Man’s parade. Between you and me, it has happened a lot in these first few months of marriage as I try to adjust to all of the life changes. On the day I was weeping on the floor, lamenting the fact that I would be forced to live in this hellhole, the Dairy Man saw opportunity. He recognized the challenges that this old house posed (like um, hello, our refrigerator is in the wall), but he believed that it could be something great.

We would live in this house because it was ON the dairy. My Dairy Man could walk out the door and go to work. He could keep an eye on the cows and the employees at all times. I would see him more because he didn’t have to drive 10 minutes to the farm if something went wrong. This would be our home.

I couldn’t see any of those things at first. All I could see was the chicken wallpaper in the kitchen and the dark wood paneling. But this was going to be our home whether I liked it or not, so it was time to roll up my sleeves and stop complaining.

Home-ownership has proven to be a lot of work. My list of projects is a mile long and we’re not millionaires, people. But we were fortunate to have family and friends who helped us get things started. I’m so appreciative of all the wretched souls who spent hours at our house scouring bathtubs, scraping off wallpaper, sanding wood trim, painting walls, and making dozens of runs to the hardware store. The house will always be a work in progress, but we’ve come a long way.

This is not a home decorating blog. I don’t want that kind of pressure. We are poor newlyweds living in an old farmhouse. It’s better than it was, but it’s still not worthy of Martha Stewart. That being said, I am proud of the process we’ve made. This old house has come a long way. To prove myself, I wanted to share just a few before/after pictures of the rooms that are presentable.

Back entryway before:

Back entryway after:

Kitchen before:

Kitchen in-progress:

Living room before:

Living room after:

Bedroom before:

Bedroom after:

Little by little, things are getting better. Things are starting to look like “us.” For all its imperfections, the house is full of warmth and full of love.

This place has a long way to go, but I finally feel like I’m home.

23 thoughts on “Finding a Home

  1. Oh honey, I got to look at our first home in the dead of night without electricity, thought things smelled a little “off”. I cried the next day when i returned with my mom & my tape measure. But we made it a home (btw no heat upstairs either). Move #2, farmer husband comes home and announced “we are moving, would you like to see the house?” SILENCE as I did not see it through the same eyes he did. We made that house our home for many years as well. The story goes on of course, but home is where you make your memories.

  2. wow, love the before and after pics and glad you have made it your home; another great story.

  3. You are a good writer; I’m enjoying this blog a lot. The print in the bedroom is awesome. The house looks great. You must have a design background.

  4. You = AWESOME. I hope that means something, coming from a total stranger…
    My sister-in-law lives in Fremont, I’m not sure if/how you know her. Her name is Melinda B (don’t want to give her whole last name on a public forum), and I found your blog because she Facebook friended you. Anyhoooo, I’ve enjoyed your blog. Your dog is cute- if you have doggie questions, I’m a vet and I’d be happy to hear from you, because you seem pretty awesome. Do you know my sister-in-law? If so, you can contact me through her 🙂
    Ivy 🙂

    1. Hi Ivy – nice to meet you! I DO know which Melinda you are talking about. 🙂 She’s great! And how cool that you’re a vet. My dairy man hopes he has a future kid that goes into that profession. I’ll let you know if I have any pup Qs!

      1. Well looky here! I love that I stumbled across this today! 🙂 Two very awesome and wonderful ladies that I have the privilege of having in my life connect! So fun! 🙂

  5. I just stumbled across your blog and might have to say – you are my farm wife soul sister. This resonated with me so much – the tears, the bugs, and the fact that this these little houses and farms sneak their way into our hearts and become our homes. Even though sometimes I STILL want to take a sledgehammer to mine 😉

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