This is not your grandma’s lake house!! oh, wait….yes it is

I have always loved a place that felt like a time warp.  You know, the places you walk into that feel like they haven’t changed in 20, 30 or 50 years?

Maybe it’s because I love history.  Maybe this is why I love antiques?  I don’t know.  I just know I’m drawn to things that feel like they’re from another time.

I loved The House of Goodwill at first sight on the internet.  And when we entered to see it for the first time – while it was still for sale – the first thing I noticed when I walked in the door was a portrait of a girl with a Mary Lou Retton haircut.

(My son does not believe me every time he wears black socks that are calf height with shorts – not all trends deserve to be remembered.)  

But that is not the point.  Apparently this is a portrait of the girl who grew up in The House of Goodwill, and she’s probably just a bit older than me.

I don’t think much changed over the years at the house.  I daresay the wallpaper hanging in the foyer is probably what got hung after the house was built in 1974.

It’s time for just a bit of an update.

The dark, dark black walnut stain - that was so prolific in the 70’s – covering all the molding and all the doors has to change.  It just makes the house feel oppressive.

So dark!  And this wallpaper is not doing the hallway any favors.

But overall, I want to honor the 1970’s style of the house.  I think a lot of people, had they bought this house – would remove some of the 70’s features.  And if this were to be my permanent home, I might be tempted to as well.

Let’s start with the very creative stone columns at the entrance.  As I’ve mentioned previously, I have really mixed feelings on these.  On the one hand, they are extremely groovy, and they’re certainly memorable!  This is not a house you’ll look at and forget, and it’s not just another generic suburban build.

Stone columns, if you were a guy I don't know if we'd break up or get married...

On the other hand, they really block the entrance, and kind of seem unwelcoming.  I feel like if they were removed, the house would feel a lot more open and friendlier.  (On the plus side, all the locals in town know exactly what house I'm talking about when I tell them we bought the one with the stone columns.)

I remember riding by a house when I was a kid with my great aunt, someone who seemed to never have an unkind word for anybody.  The house we were passing had numerous tchotchkes and lawn statues and pieces of cars strewn everywhere around it.  “Too many ideas,” was all she said, and kept driving.  I think sometimes that just sums things up.

At the end of the day, I feel like the columns are part of the 70’s style of the house, and they should stay.

It’s like that with the decorative spindles that separate the living room/kitchen, and the bedroom/bathroom.  Is there anything more 70’s than spindle room dividers?  Looking from the kitchen into the living room, they really block the view.

I feel like we're missing some swinging doors and a saloon sign.

But again, they are definitely part of the zeitgeist of this house.

The style of this house from its stone exterior to its narrow windows is unavoidable, so if we’re not doing a gigantic renovation (and we’re definitely NOT), why not celebrate its grooviness?

And, last but not least, the house has an intercom system where you can choose the radio station in the kitchen, and access it in other rooms of the house.  Remember those?  They were the height of technology at the time.  

Choose the station in the kitchen, and listen to it in the bedroom.  Oh, the convenience!

I remember moving into the house I grew up in in the early 1980s.  That house had an intercom system just like this one, but maybe a little less fancy.  And just like this one, the one in the house I grew up in only partially worked.

It was like a walkie-talkie built into a wall.  As kids, we played with it till it broke.  (I’m in the kitchen!  And I can talk to someone in a bedroom!)

The doorbell part of The House of Goodwill’s intercom system is broken.  But I did manage to almost tune in to a static-y am radio station in the kitchen, and listen to it as I brushed my teeth in the bathroom before bed.

I’ve got no plans to remove it.  Again, if we’re not going to totally renovate, let’s enjoy it!  It almost seems like an old phonograph or one of those non-working ovens that you see built into brick walls sometimes in 1960’s homes.  (Why have I never encountered a functional one?)

To quote Greg Brady, I think the house is “really far out in a happening kind of way,” columns, spindles and all!