Slow revival of 1910 Montrose bungalow retains home’s old charm — on a budget
When Paula Murphy first saw the 1910 bungalow for sale in Montrose, it was deeply in need of renovation. But that didn’t deter her from buying it.
“I came in, and it just felt comfortable,” she says. “I liked it immediately.”
For the past 14 years, she has been fixing up the place, which serves as both her home and office of her public-relations company.
There are three bedrooms and two bathrooms in the 1,600-square-foot house. The oak floors are original, as are the glass doorknobs throughout. Murphy has updated the kitchen, added storage, converted a butler’s pantry into a file room.
Her most recent project, however, is one of the most visible transformations: She turned the enclosed front porch into a sunroom that fits flawlessly with the rest of the house.
When Murphy moved in, the room looked like what it was — a contained outdoor space. The floor was a small step down and covered with Saltillo tile. A brick-covered wall obviously had once been the exterior of the house. The room wasn’t air-conditioned, and the only electricity came from a cord that had been routed from the front bedroom.
Years ago, Murphy installed air conditioning and electricity and decorated the space in a breezy, Moroccan-inspired style. But the room still felt tacked on: “I used to like to go in there, but it just didn’t flow like I wanted it to flow.”
Last year, she decided it was time to connect the sunroom to the rest of the house. She had the floor raised and covered with oak to match the other
rooms. She scrounged up two doors she’d removed in other parts of the house, then had them turned into a set of pocket doors that open to the front bedroom. She also got rid of a glassed-in arch to eliminate the “converted porch” look.
Murphy remembered that almost a decade earlier, she had salvaged a set of arched French doors from a gutted house in another neighborhood. She had them installed and replaced the molding, and they now form an elegant passage between this new space and the living room.
Out went the sheer curtains and Moroccan décor; in went a fresh, bright look, with a white slip-covered couch and a cowhide rug. A slouchy white chair, a couple of lamps and a statement-making coffee table fill out the small space.
“Pretty much everything in this house was bought on a budget,” Murphy says. She has acquired a charming, eclectic mix of furniture, art and accessories from resale shops, Facebook trading groups and a circle of talented, design-savvy friends.
As with the rest of the house, almost every piece in the sunroom has a story. The banjo that leans against the door once belonged to her late father. A friend was planning to get rid of the Asian-style scroll table, but Murphy saved it from the trash.
A large, square painting of two birds has changed hands a few times: A friend passed it on to Murphy, who later loaned it to another pal. “When I finished the (new) room, I called my friend: ‘Remember that painting I loaned you? I’m calling it back,’” Murphy says. It now has pride of place above the sofa.
Over the years, she has filled her home with the things she loves. Antique typewriters appear in almost every room. Art and photography cover tables and fill shelves. Near the dining table, a small box overflows with coins from other countries.
“I don’t think I’m designing,” says Murphy. “I’m just picking up things along the way that I want to look at.”
And she hasn’t updated quite everything. The guest bathroom, for instance, is still lined with bright green and lilac-pink tile. “My dad, when I bought the house, said, ‘I surely hope you’re going to change that tile,’” Murphy recalls. “I was like, ‘I’m surely not changing that tile.’” She calls it the “Easter bathroom” and plans to keep it exactly as it is.
In fact, Murphy wants to stay true to the home’s roots as much as she can; she doesn’t want it to look like it’s new.
“I just want to keep the same look and feel,” she says, “because that’s why I bought this house.”