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Winter Wonderland

Tett House is a magical place. I don’t just mean the house, but the whole property. The natural surroundings provide an ever-changing canvas for all four seasons as they revolve throughout the year. With views of trees and water from every window, the outdoor landscape seems to become part of the design and architecture of our home.

I tend to think that every season in Bedford Mills is more beautiful than the last. But after three years here, I can honestly say that nothing could have prepared me for the gorgeous splendour of winter. As soon as the snow falls, the whole area becomes a fairyland. Even the humblest outbuildings turn picturesque.

We call the red carriage-house a “serial killer shed,” because it’s super creepy. In winter, it’s positively charming!
The original outhouse. I’ve lived here for three years and never investigated it and I’m 100% OK with that.

In winter, our view of the old mill across the pond, which is always hauntingly romantic, is lovelier than any Christmas card.

In my former life, I used to do a lot of superficial decorating for Christmas, filling up spaces with holiday knick-knacks. I tend to keep it simple here, though, because Tett House feels like a Christmas house already, with its rich wood accents, high, Victorian ceilings, and the pines standing sentinel just outside our windows.

At Tett House, my Christmas decorating strategy is based on the following two theories:

1. Pillows (you can never have too many)

AND

2. Plaid (you can never have too much)

Evergreens and candles are symbolic to Yuletide and Winter Solstice, which I celebrate as well as Christmas. Evergreen branches symbolize rebirth, renewal, and a reminder of the return of spring. Candles represent the eternal flame of hearth and home.

This year, I decided to make a little extra magic and decorate one of the little pines in the forest behind Tett House. I used some simple coloured balls, and made a string of jingle bells to hang on the branches. Jingle bells used to be rung at Yuletide in olden times to drive away bad luck and dark days. I always think of them as ringing in the New Year to come!

I always feel a little extra creative at Christmas and I try to add a homemade element to the gifts we give. Often, you will find me knitting by the fire, or sorting through my craft materials and antique paper stash for ephemera to make cards and tags.

Although I don’t bake often, I’ve been known to cut a few cookies over the holidays!

Tett House is a cozy place in winter-time. But it’s a lot of work, too, as is every rural home. Managing firewood for the wood stove is a project unto itself. Not to mention our steep and challenging driveway, which is several hundred feet long. I got my car stuck on it TWICE last year and had to be rescued by kindly neighbours! We have someone to plow it, but there is always extra shovelling to do, and it is no easy task. Like a Canadian winter, our driveway sometimes feels like it never ends.

2021 will be our fourth winter at Tett House, and we’ve learned to embrace hibernation! When the temperatures drop and the snow falls, there’s no place I’d rather be than in front of the fire with my guys and a cat (or two) napping nearby.

Happy New Year, from Tett House!

To read our story from the beginning, click here.

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Finding Tett House – Part 1

It was the mill that first caught our eye. Well… Trevor’s eye.

It was August of 2015. I was sleeping in the car when we first drove by the mill on our way down to Kingston, because sleeping in the car is what I do. But Trevor, who is super thoughtful in this way, made a note to remember it as a place worth exploring in the future, and maybe taking a few good photographs.

We had been visiting friends and really enjoyed Kingston and its surrounding villages. Even though we had no plans to move at that time, I started randomly looking at houses in the area, purely out of curiosity. In September, I sent Trevor a link to the listing of a home I thought was incredible. This was the listing photo.

He replied that it was “very cute.” I thought it was one of the most gorgeous homes I’d ever seen in my life. Unfinished, yes. But gorgeous. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

You can still view the video tour here.

About 10 days later, I emailed him the link again, just because I get obsessed that way.

A couple of months later, we were in the area once more and Trevor said, “I want to show you something.” He drove us out to see the old mill he had first noticed back in August. It was in a little pocket of South Frontenac called “Bedford Mills,” with a few cabins, a quaint church, and not much else that we could see. At the foot of a tumbling waterfall, this steadfast, stone mill stood guard over a quiet pond, like something out of a gothic novel. Even in the stark greyness of a November afternoon, it was beautiful.

As the road cuts right through the property, we did not immediately realize the mill was a private residence (whoops.) We rambled and exclaimed and took pictures until our son Oliver sighed with ennui. Finally, we noticed a “Private Sale” sign that indicated the property was on the market, and I jotted down the email address.

Then we looked up.

High on the hill, across the water, was an old yellow house with a big old verandah, peering down between windswept pines. It was the kind of house I’ve wanted to live in all my life. I’m pretty sure it winked at me.

“Look at that house,” I said, pointing. “Imagine living there.” And in a heartbeat, I did imagine it. I considered what it would be like to look out the windows through those trees at the mill, and to hear the rush of that waterfall every single day. It was an intoxicating idea.

On a whim, we drove up the steep driveway to the house, which actually sits atop a craggy limestone cliff of Canadian Shield. It was vacant and even more charming up close. It also had an old carriage house and a bell on the property that rang with a satisfyingly loud gong.

A bell!  I was smitten.

We took some more photos, then went back to the car, and drove onward.

I had no idea this was the same house to which I had sent Trevor the link just eight weeks before.

(Read Part 2)