Limestone farmhouse in the country

I first met the Edwin Zimmerman House, c. 1870, in the dead of winter at the beginning of 2017. I got to know her a little better throughout the year as the seasons changed, and, at the height of summer, when the greenery was in full bloom and Kansas was more jungle than prairie, I took these photos. Now, in the dead of winter at the beginning of 2018, I find myself finally processing them and trying to figure out what the hell I could possibly show or say to capture this house's simple magic.

SPECS:

  • 3 bed, 2 bath
  • 2 front doors
  • Circa 1870
  • 1 wood stove, 1 solarium, 1 pet frog

The view driving up to the property. Sitting on many acres just north of Lawrence, Kansas, the Zimmerman house is surrounded by an outer ring of farmland and an inner ring of trees. In the dictionary of my mind, next to 'homestead,' there is a photo of this property. 

This is the kind of property where you have weddings in the spring. Barbecues in the summer. Bonfires in the fall. Where you make snow angels and snow people then trek inside to warm yourself by the wood stove with a cup of hot spiked cider in the winter. Then, before you know it- it's spring again, and the cycle begins anew.

View from the gardens, looking up towards the house. This section of the house, with a south-facing solarium, is an addition to the original structure. Instead of some historic home additions, this addition adds rather than subtracts. More on the solarium later.

From the gardens, looking south. MAGIC, I tell you, the MAGIC! 

Around the gardens.

Around the gardens pt. 2.

The playhouse, a clear relic of the past. 

Then, there's the barn, CHECK THIS THING OUT Y'ALL! They don't make 'em like they used to. Its limestone foundation and ancient timber support posts indicate its age- also- what is that door for?? Ventilation? Hay tossing? Is that a thing? Just for Fun™? I'm sure I could find out via the Interwebs, but I'm too preoccupied by another mysterious set of doors...

<<INSERT HEART EYE EMOJI HERE>>

OH, the projects you could get into here! This photo is far from indicative of this barn's size- it's massive!

OK OK- now onto the case of the mysterious doors I mentioned a minute ago. You know how most houses in the world have ONE front door and ONE back door and maybe a dog door and patio door if you're lucky? Well the Zimmerman House has lots of auxiliary doors, but most importantly, has TWO front doors, neither of which are in use, mind you. Before meeting 'Z,' as the house will heretofore be known, I had not considered the two front door thing. Like at all. Granted- I see some houses here and there with two front doors in my neighborhood, but I typically just think to myself "HA- how charming, I bet they did that Just for Fun™ ." BUT NO- the occurrence of two front doors is not coincidental, but is instead rooted in myriad historical, societal, economic and cultural forces. Indeed, there are multiple theories about the two-door dealio (some of them have fun names too, like 'The Dog Trot Theory' and 'The Georgianizing Theory'). In fact, so indepth does the research go, that one of my idols, a local preservationist and architect named Dennis Domer, actually wrote a paper on this very subject.

Now- I might have the time and emotional energy to wax poetic on 'Z', but I DON'T have the intellectual energy to get too in depth on the two-door thing, other than to relay the idea that most resonated with me. In my version, one door leads to a parlor-esque public room, i.e. a where-you-greet-Sally-from-down-the-lane-when you're-trying-to-be-polite-but-heaven-forbid-she-actually-come-inside-the-house room, and the other door leads to a normal CHARLES-STOP-BITING-YOUR-SISTER living room. You see? One door for the public, the other door for private living stuff. Simple. Brilliant. I reiterate an earlier point- they sure don't make 'em like the used to.

UPDATE 2/6/18: My friend Katie Ashmore, who used to live at 'Z,' added another theory to the two-door question- when she was living there, she was told that the house was an old Shaker house, and that the 2 front doors served as separate entrances for men and women that led into gendered worship rooms. WHAT. The mystery continues. 

Z's two front doors. While neither door is in use at the moment and poses a bit of a problem if you open the doors from the inside, I can imagine that there used to be a big, beautiful porch attached here. Where did you go, porch?!

Now that we've solved (not) the door mystery, let's go around to a most magical part of the house.

This deserves a full. stop.

Scroll slowly, friends. 

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Damn 

Maybe it's because I'm freezing and writing this while huddled inches from a shitty space heater trying to get warm (it's not working), but there's some real down-to-earth magic here that makes me feel things, including some much needed warmth. That Tree. That Light. That Stone. It's nature and architecture together, on display, in the simplest way.

For context, here's the back of the property, where you can see the modern addition, solarium, garages underneath and to the right, that. tree. 

UPDATE 2/6/18: It turns out that the tree that so moved me is the oldest Hackberry Tree in Douglas County (!!). Thanks to Katie Ashmore for the info. Here are a few more photos of said Hackberry and its relation to 'Z.' These certainly don't do it justice, but they allude to the majesty and size of this beauty! Holy smokes. 

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The solarium looks out on all this nature. <<INSERT SECOND HEART EYE EMOJI HERE>>

Dueling solariums. 

Curtis aka Candlepants aka friend of all birds and plants aka Z's friend and inhabitant for many years. 

Past the solarium are some lovely rooms. I can't even. The thing that's special about this house's interior isn't that it's ornate, because it's not. It has lovely details all around, but there's an accessibility about it that reveals its utilitarian farmhouse roots. It makes me think of this Leonard Koren quote:

Pare down to the essence, but don’t remove the poetry.
— Leonard Koren

YES. I mean- if that's not the definition of beauty, then I don't know what is. Now onto that simple, poetic interior for a hot minute. 

The limestone interior wall indicates where the original limestone structure ends and the more modern addition begins. Mind you- the word 'modern' is to be taken lightly- I haven't the foggiest as to when the house was expanded but based on the wood floors and trim, I'd imagine it would have been in the 1st quarter of the 20th century. 

Stairs to the second story, totally patina-ed out. 

Stairs to the basement, ditto.

Just for Fun™

In the dictionary of my mind next to 'all I've ever wanted' is a photo of this wood stove.

The main living room as seen from what I'll call the parlour, where residents likely did their public entertaining. 

Honestly- I took a gazillion photos of this place, but after processing everything, I came to the conclusion that while the house is exceptional- it's simple and utilitarian and old and everything I value- but at the end of the day, the magic of this place is how the house interacts with its surroundings. There are so many opportunities here to be outside, to SEE outside. From the outbuildings to the gardens, the solarium to the deck- 'Z' is a place for taking pause and being with nature. I guess- at the end of the day, that's why people move to the county- out here- it's just easier to breathe. 

A final look at 'Z.'

Kansas county view leaving the property. Perfect. 

P.S.- Thanks to my friend Curtis McCoy for letting me take pics. Sorry it took me so long, pal! :)


BONUS SHOTS

'Z' was home to Lawrence attorney Lance Burr for many years. Lance specialized in Native American Law and was an activist, environmentalist, conservationist and more. He co-founded Friends of the Kaw to help protect the Kansas River. His legacy is well preserved at the Zimmerman House. 

Rumor has it there's a cat buried by the deer. Rumor has it it was a very good cat. RIP, kitty. 

2/6/18 UPDATE: It turns out it's not a cat buried by the deer statue, but in fact it's a DEER, buried under it! There's a story here, of course. Photo and story courtesy of my friend Katie Ashmore. While Katie was living at 'Z' years ago, she came a…

2/6/18 UPDATE: It turns out it's not a cat buried by the deer statue, but in fact it's a DEER, buried under it! There's a story here, of course. Photo and story courtesy of my friend Katie Ashmore. While Katie was living at 'Z' years ago, she came across a deer who had been badly injured by coyotes. The deer was still alive, but barely. Instead of letting the deer suffer until the coyotes came back for her later that evening, Katie, with the assistance of a non-emergency police officer, helped end her suffering. After the deer passed, Katie sat with the deer for a long time, covered her with flowers as pictured, buried her, and placed the deer statue (found elsewhere on the property) to mark her grave. Thanks, Katie, for helping see the deer out of this world in a most humane way. 

And you thought I was joking when I said the house had a pet frog. 

Mid-century modern on hidden cul-de-sac

Do you know what the plural of cul-de-sac is? If so- you get a gold star. If not- thats ok, because its a random thing to know. The answer, of course, is culs-de-sac. See what happened there? CULS- de-sac? Kinda crazy right? My life is full of culs-de-sac recently, oddly enough. But that's another story for another day.

That rousing intro on culs-de-sac brings me to this mini-series of photos of the exterior of 2 of my best friends' house. Its hidden on a super secret cul-de-sac (singular- you dig?) in Lawrence. Its so secret, if I told you where it was, they might kill me. This cul-de-sac is one of those pretty perfect places where kids and dogs play in the street while the parents hang out, watching, drinking cocktails and chatting. Like- they're actually friends (!). And neighborly (!!). Not only is the community vibe spot on, but so are the houses. They're all mid-century moderns each with their own personality, clean lines (duh), many with terraced gardens and a few with gravel roofs. Its an amazing. place. 

My friends recently finished re-painting their house this GORGEOUS navy. I love navy, especially when its crispness is paired with a landscape like this. 

The front balcony with modern wire railing is also pretty great. Insert heart-eye emoji here.

Do you see what I see?? That chimney??? The upward sloping lot that leads to an incredible terraced garden???

Mmmmmhmm- this is why I love old houses. You can't BUY that kind of texture.

Ah yes- this has been the site of many parties with my ladies. This house is AMAZING for parties- and the hostesses' great snack plate preparation skills don't hurt. 

Plant vibes, yo!

I mean- come on. Get out of here. These photos are just a snippet of the beauty this house has to offer. The gardens are incredible and the interior is rich in style and warmth. But this is what I leave you with today- a taste of the best cul-de-sac in town, a place where a new American dream (Lawrence style) is taking shape, one clean line and neighborly connection at a time.

House of steps // a new project

I love Jefferson County, Kansas. Its building codes are lax, leading to a host of weird and inventive structures hidden in the woods. It was in front of a fire at another great Jefferson County property that a friend told me about the house of steps, a small house in the woods with great views, interesting angles, a different room on each floor and as the name implies, lots of steps. Said friend offered to connect me to the owner, artist John Niswonger, and soon after, on a brisk January day, I was out exploring and photographing the property with John, my partner in crime Alicia and the dogs of the house.

This project has been a long time in the making. I've been exploring the history and exteriors of different properties for the past few years on Instagram and have loved sharing my photos/impressions/mini-research binges. I want to take it a step further and go deeper into the properties I'm interested in. Hence this, a series of explorations of properties that inspire me. I've never been interested in shiny, perfect, pristine, architecture- instead, what gets me going are the creative, raw, diamond-in-the-rough kind of spaces that make me feel things like wonder and inspiration and whimsy. I'm interested in spaces that don't entirely subscribe to trends, constructed of materials straight from the earth, that have an element of utility to them. I love utility. To me, dream architecture is utility + whimsy, and I hope to share a slice of that here.


House of steps

SPECS:

  • 1 bed, 1 bath
  • Circa 1970 
  • Book it inspired: "The House of Steps: Finding the Path Home" by Amy Blackmarr 
  • Music festival hosted on its grounds: Climax Festival, a mini-Woodstock in the 70's
  • Other features include: sauna, defunct cistern, creek in wet weather

Down a steep driveway off a rural Kansas road, in front of a large clearing with a plethora of yard- art, sits the house of steps. She's an odd, geometric shape, with varied elevations and is clearly the product of someone's creative mind (YES!- I wonder what the product of my mind would look like. Maybe if I move to JeffCo I can build it and find out).

Exterior of the house of steps. I love how the fence around the house goes UNDER the entry stairs. Clever, house of steps, very clever. See rest of post for more elevations- she just gets more and more interesting. (Unless otherwise stated, all photos are my own.)

And from the other side. 

There are two ways to enter the property, from the front steps or around back into the ground level kitchen. We climb the stairs and enter through the front and find two rooms: a den and a bedroom with an incredible cathedral window and wood-burning fire place. The only interior doors in the house of steps are the doors to the bathroom and doors to the pantry where shelves and the fridge live.

There is also a staircase- God I love this staircase. Its painted a blue/green color that I so often spot on porches here in Kansas (Y'all- what's up with this color?!?! Anyone know the story behind it? MESSAGE ME). The staircase goes up to the most AMAZING ARTIST STUDIO IN THE WORLD. The stairs have no railings. And I'm in love with them.

THIS STAIRCASE AND JOHN'S ART AROUND IT AND IN THE HOUSE IN GENERAL ARE AMAZING. Also- seriously- the color of the stairs is what dreams are made of.

Also on the staircase to the artist's studio is a landing with a movie-theater style chair and windows, windows, windows. These windows are insane. I'm pretty sure that while Alicia and John were up in the studio talking about art and process and other deep stuff I was just hanging on the landing taking thousands of photos of plants and windows and trinkets trying to capture the magic of this space. I am confident I didn't come close. 

This chair. This landing. This light. 

The windows in the stairwell to the studio are so. beautiful. Evidence of John's past as a skateboard shop owner in Lawrence, KS are prevalent throughout the property.

Treasures in the windows.

After climbing the staircase- there you are- in a room that is shaped like an extended decagon (don't quote me on that- geometry was never my strong suit) that John uses as his studio for his stained glass work (please visit him on Instagram @thenish to see more of his work and to purchase). Previous tenant and author of the book about the property "The House of Steps: Finding the Path Home" (which I read in its entirety in preparation for this post because that's just how I roll), Amy Blackmarr, used this room as her bedroom. I can see why. I'm certain I would both sleep AND create well in this room. 

John's studio at the top of the house of steps. 

Studio vibes.

Studio dog. Note theater chair and triangular cut-out on the left. The cut-out passes through to the bedroom one level lower, and is rumored to serve as a heat exchange. The wood burning stove sits just below it. 

Regretfully we leave the studio, and pass through the den and the bedroom and head down another set of stairs to the rustic (I say that with admiration, to be clear) kitchen and bathroom levels. This is also where the other entrance to the property is. The lower level is admittedly colder. With a brick floor and utilitarian features all around, I love this level nonetheless.

Part of the cathedral window in the bedroom space. 

Staircase to the first floor kitchen. The light. The LIGHT. 

The kitchen is uninsulated, with the limestone structure of the house serving as interior wall. Even in this room, the light is great. The HVAC is exposed, but I kinda dig it. It keeps the space raw. It feels like a space you can really work in, without it being so precious that you're worried about messing it up, and that's a good thing, especially for a person like myself who cooks with wild abandon.

After exploring the kitchen, we head outside. From here, you can really get an idea of the different elevations of the house. They are varied. And amazing. And this property is WOODED. I can't imagine how beautiful it is in the fall. 

This is my favorite photo of the property because it shows how varied the elevations of the house of steps is. The wooden door is the entrance to the kitchen/first floor. The cathedral window with the antlers is the bedroom space. The window to the right of that is the den you enter upon climbing the steps out front. The tower at top is John's studio. 

The tower in more detail. Because this space is amazing. 

The sauna. John eventually wants to expand his stained glass operation here.

The sauna, close-up. 

Apparently a while back, someone went through and changed a bunch of signs in Jefferson County. One Alicia and I encountered when driving in was "Onion Road," which had been changed from "Union Road." I thought this edited sign, leading into a series of trails on the property/neighboring properties, was just delightful.

In the words of Amy Blackmarr:

I discovered the genius of this house by living through the season in it-by learning how in fall the leaves crisped and drifted around it, how the trees let in shards of winter light or filtered the summer sunlight into a dusky haze, how they drew shadows light Zen paintings across the walls in the moonlight.
— Amy Blackmarr, The House of Steps

Yes. I agree, Amy Blackmarr, although personally, I didn't have to live in the house to discover the genius of  it. It exudes creativity, beauty and incredible light in every inch. It's not perfect- Amy's book retells how the attic was infested with wasps in the 90's, how cold it is in the winter and how impossible it is to mow because of the God-forsaken-moles (my words, not hers- I hate moles). John also spoke of its quirks. But at the end of the day, the house of steps is a special, weird place, and I am thankful to have had the chance to explore it. See below for a few more bonus shots to round out the collection, and THANK YOU for reading. If you have suggestions for properties I should explore, please either find me on Instagram @katyclagett OR shoot me an email using my contact tab! Best- Katy. 

BONUS SHOTS!!!

Courtesy of John Niswonger. Back in the days, the fellows used to use the abandoned cisterns on the property as a swimming pool. The water, clear and clean as day, was perfect for beer bathing. 

Courtesy of John Niswonger. In addition to being the site of Climax Fest in the 70's, the house of steps also served as the site of Nish Fest in 2008. This poster is brilliant- not many people can incorporate a 40 into the design of their house so seamlessly. Kudos, John! Again- you can find this creative master on Instagram @thenish .