Turning Back Time
Rather than move to an older home, an intrepid Minnesota homeowner finds a way to give her 1970s home a rustic country vibe that complements her antiques and collections.
Rather than move into an older house in need of significant work, a Minnesota couple decide to invest in giving their 1970s abode cosmetic updates that reflect the rustic country character they adore.
For Pat Kennedy, it turns out that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side of the fence, as she came to realize when she considered pulling up stakes and moving to a different residence. Two decades ago, Pat was smitten by a rustic lake house that was up for sale near her own lakeside home. The house had originally been a log cabin, and Pat fell in love with the massive log walls in the kitchen and the soaring lake-stone fireplace in the living room. However, her husband, Terry, wasn’t so keen on the property. It was located near a freeway and needed extensive renovations, including drilling a new well, building a garage and rectifying problems resulting from previous improvements. Terry offered Pat a deal: If she gave up on that house, she could do anything she wanted to their existing home.
Pat agreed, and she hired a decorator and a contractor to give their 1970s house in west-central Minnesota a much-needed makeover, with special consideration for accommodating her vast collections of vintage furnishings and accessories. “A little rustic, a little farmhouse” is how Pat, an antiques dealer, describes her style. “What I love are early Americana pieces. That’s my whole aesthetic.”
The extensive remodeling project entailed tearing down walls, raising the formerly trendy sunken living room floors, and installing new windows and oak flooring throughout. Popcorn ceilings, another 1970s-throwback design element, were covered with beadboard. The kitchen was enlarged and remodeled to include additional cabinetry and open shelving.
Repainting the entire interior in light, creamy hues was a key part of the cosmetic update. Though she’s long since forgotten the names of the paint colors, Pat recalls her methodology—she chose a paint strip and used every color on it, assured they would flow well together. “We used the darkest color in some places and the lighter colors in some places,” she explains.
Pat’s knack for creative expression is evident in every room of her retooled abode, particularly when it comes to pieces that have been adapted for new uses. She has turned an ecclesiastical vestment chest into a storage unit, a dental cabinet into a dining room hutch, and crocks into vases and lamps.
In some cases, however, she favors tradition. For example, she was adamant about replacing an electric chandelier in the dining room with one that burns real candles. Her electrician told her she was crazy, but he did it anyway. She admits she’s had some near-misses with molten wax. “I use beeswax candles because they are not supposed to drip,” she says with a chuckle. “I watch them real carefully. I really like it, and I’ve never been sorry.”
Growing up in a household where her mother sought out discarded furniture and refinished it for family use, Pat comes by her affinity for antiques and collecting naturally. She’s partial to crocks, especially salt-glazed crocks and butter crocks stamped with creamery names. She also collects vintage quilts and likes to imagine how they came into being. “I think of some lady probably making the quilt by a kerosene lantern,” she says. “No two are ever alike. Sometimes, someone will do twin ones, but they still aren’t the same.”
Her antiques business is the aptly named Crocks and Quilts. Though she always relished the hunt for new items, she didn’t think of becoming a dealer until a favorite seller noted her proclivity for purchasing and wondered whether she was approaching capacity in her home. “You buy so much stuff—aren’t you getting full?” he asked. When she replied “yes,” he encouraged her to start selling. “So that’s what I did,” Pat recalls. “I discovered how much fun it is and have been doing it ever since.”
Pat worked at an antiques store near her home until it closed in 2005, and then she moved on to The Missouri Mouse, a cooperative of 45 dealers in St. Paul, Minnesota. It’s a 140-mile drive, and she works two days a month. Fortunately, the couple owns a St. Paul condominium, so she can stay overnight when she’s in town. “I get to have the city part and the country part of my life,” she observes.
Occasionally, Pat’s thoughts turn to the rustic house she once coveted, but she insists that she is glad to have bypassed its myriad challenges. She is content that she accepted Terry’s offer to reshape their current home into something that suits her in every respect.
“What I love are early Americana pieces. That’s my whole aesthetic.”