A long time ago in a land far away–master craftsmen built this house.
And fireplaces with marble surrounds.
And beautiful oak floors throughout the house.
Just when the house couldn’t get any more all about itself.
They added these incredible, awe-inspiring, character-filled five-panel doors and stained them.
Somewhere along the way people decided that dark doors weren’t a thing anymore. “Paint them white,” they decreed. And so it was that every door in the house was painted a shiny, glossy, beautiful white.
I get it.
I painted every door in the farmhouse white.
But with this house–I wanted something different. I knew the wood underneath was so pretty and all that history and character and charm was covered up by a little paint.
And I wanted to set myself and the doors free.
Here’s the same angle as above with doors that look like this.
And from this.
Can you even?
All the downstairs doors are back to where they started.
Where it all began.
Here’s the doorway from the kitchen into the dining room.
It swings between the two rooms.
Here it is open.
And here it is closed.
I found an amazing local craftsman who stripped the doors down to their original finish and then restained them.
And he polished up all thebrass handles and key holes on the doors.
It might be hard to tell from the pictures, but the doors are stained slightly darker than the floors. The also have a slightly redder tint. The door wood is pine and with the aging process the original wood turned slightly red.
I’m so happy with them.
I didn’t want everything to match.
I wanted the doors to take on their own personality.
When he took the doors off to work on them, he told me they wouldn’t be perfect.
He told me years and years of living had left dings and cracks and chips in the doors.
And then he asked me if I wanted him to repair the doors to look almost new.
I shook my head.
“Please don’t,” I said. “I love the cracks and the knicks and the dings. They are what make the doors special.”
“I don’t want the doors to look new. They worked too hard to get where they are.”
Those cracks are loved.
Those dings and knicks and chips are celebrated.
Because those doors are one-of-a-kind.
Because those doors are a sign of a life well lived.
Because those doors are perfectly imperfect just the way they are.
Just like me. 🙂
PS I hope I look that good when I’m 110. I’m just sayin’. 🙂