It has been nearly five months since my husband and I concluded our life would be more complete with the addition of a mountain getaway. We spent several weeks last December searching the ‘on-line’ slopes of Western North Carolina for the perfect, little cabin; one which also fit our measly, little budget.
The cabin we found was not perfect, and the offer we extended reflected its imperfections; not the least of which included the fact that there was no running water, the whole house was precariously perched atop concrete blocks that were sinking, there was no “skirt” to hide those sinking blocks, no insulation, a tree was firmly planted on the roof, and the insurance company would not insure one square inch.
Our goal was to create a place where we could feel comfortable for 6 months of the year while retaining the cabin’s rustic charm. Our agent was the one who first cautioned us to remember, “It’s just a cabin.” We reminded ourselves of this often.
When the contractor had finished his work (well, nearly finished), we gathered together all the things we had purchased to furnish our little cabin. . . from our basement, the garage, guest room, dining room, and three different stores around town. (The bigger part of this story may be how we stayed on budget. . . a story for another day.)
I searched the house over for everything red and rustic, divided the china, silverware and linens, and went through my closet with a fine-toothed comb. If there were two pair of khaki pants, one pair stayed and one went. Sweaters, running clothes, shoes, pajamas and underwear were all pilfered, like the undoing of Noah’s Ark.
Although everything was unpacked the first day, there have been another 12 days to get this little cabin arranged. Even still, I wouldn’t dare take pictures of the bedrooms, the laundry room is still under construction, and everything else is subject to change. Nonetheless, here’s where we are at the moment. . .
The Family Room. . .
We replaced the original heating stove, and gained much needed floor space.
There’s an interesting phenomenon that happens while you’re waiting to move into a new a home – the rooms grow larger and the ceilings taller, only to return to normal the day you move in. . .
The beautiful wrought iron fixture that was perfect for our family room was entirely too large for our family room.
The Dining Room. . .
The old electrical panel had to be moved from the front porch. I could only sigh when they told me they needed to move it to the dining room (it is barely visible on the right wall behind the door in the photo above).
Fortunately we found two of these beautiful, red velvet drapes from the Ralph Lauren showroom. By wrapping them around the corner (we used PVC pipe with a plumber’s elbow joint and painted it black), you’d never know there’s an electrical panel In the dining room.
The Kitchen. . .
The kitchen was originally an L-shape (still visible in the top left photo). We moved the ‘L’ part of the cabinets along the back wall to create a long, galley kitchen.
The Main/Master Bath. . .
Floor tile that looks like wood and old brick created a spectacular cabin shower (we used an outdoor lantern for the light).
2 thoughts on “It’s Just A Cabin”
Wow!!!! YOu all have done a phenomenal job! Do I understand correctly you intend to spend 6 months out of the year there? I bet you FEEL better having a place in the mountains again.
Thanks, Maria. There really is no place quite like the mountains, right?! We will enjoy being without the heat and mosquitos for the whole summer!!