Lake it or not
Growing up, there was always someone with a, 'Lake House' that they were off to during the sticky heat of summer. Where I grew up, lakes were reservoirs: valleys that had been flooded and filled - dark, brown, slimy bottomed, water sources. With lots of weird bottom feeder, lake nature. No thanks. And then there was the whole lake culture thing that included things like, beer koozies and what not. Nope. Not for me. You can keep your ski-dos and party coves. I wasn't cut out for lake life.
I did once have the opportunity to visit someone's lake house in the fall. It was a whole different spin on the idea. Nobody tried to coax me into the brown, fishy waters. It was totally acceptable to just look at it. The trees were in various stages of fall folliage, some golden, some already half barren, and so that was nice. In the crisp morning, we crunched along the banks of the lake and, if I remember correctly (or this could be a total fake memory - I do that. Inadvertently of course. ) we took a bottle of wine, a couple of blankets and a paddle boat out on a misty still lake at dusk. It was beautiful. That time. I 'did' and I dug The Lake.
When I ran across these Belgian House (near Lake Genval) photos, with the green water and all, I thought, ok, now this is what a lake house should be all about - The Belgian look gone Lake. Restoration Hardware, eat your heart out - shiny copper pot collections, intimate dining rooms, 'bois' on bois, ashy, grayed bois for that matter, rough hewn woods, painted even! and how about those awesome plaster worn walls? There's no way you couldn't go to a little jewel like this and not have the most romantic of times- and you wouldn't even have to embellish the memories.
Photographer: Christophe Rouffino via: weranda
I did once have the opportunity to visit someone's lake house in the fall. It was a whole different spin on the idea. Nobody tried to coax me into the brown, fishy waters. It was totally acceptable to just look at it. The trees were in various stages of fall folliage, some golden, some already half barren, and so that was nice. In the crisp morning, we crunched along the banks of the lake and, if I remember correctly (or this could be a total fake memory - I do that. Inadvertently of course. ) we took a bottle of wine, a couple of blankets and a paddle boat out on a misty still lake at dusk. It was beautiful. That time. I 'did' and I dug The Lake.
When I ran across these Belgian House (near Lake Genval) photos, with the green water and all, I thought, ok, now this is what a lake house should be all about - The Belgian look gone Lake. Restoration Hardware, eat your heart out - shiny copper pot collections, intimate dining rooms, 'bois' on bois, ashy, grayed bois for that matter, rough hewn woods, painted even! and how about those awesome plaster worn walls? There's no way you couldn't go to a little jewel like this and not have the most romantic of times- and you wouldn't even have to embellish the memories.
Comments
But we also have beautiful alpine lakes that take your breath away, so I totally get the house by the lake thing. A totally different animal altogether. Winter or summer, lake houses up here are the perfect getaway.....now if I could only get my hands on one.
Love the photos....what is that on the kitchen ceiling though? It looks like the wall tile with nails keeping it from falling off the ceiling.
You know, that house definitely has a maid, with all those pots gleaming!
the lakes of my childhood were clear real lakes in the midst of woods.
AJD