Some of my mother's books are just too special to waste away on her wicker bookshelf back on the homestead so I recently started the undertaking of recreating a "best of the best" of mom's collection back here in Brooklyn.
Some of her books captured my imagination so fully that I'm still hooked on them 20 years later. I've been trolling used book stores, eBay and the wonderful abebooks to find my favorites so I can have my very own copy, as I wouldn't want disturb the family archives.
First up is the wonderful "Converted into Houses", published in 1976. It contains a multitude of amazing (and amazingly hippie dippy) spaces and their conversion into living quarters.
I was born from wheat bread baking, chicken raising, overall wearing, tepee building, mountain hiking, skinny dipping, yoga doing parents in a depression era farmhouse; so these hippie dwellings remind me of home.
A former chicken coop.
A former butterscotch factory in SoHo. Hmm, I wonder why I love houseplants.
A tugboat. And yes, we totally had those wicker chairs when I was a kid!
A schoolhouse in Sebastopol.
It just goes on and on; sailboats, train cars, ice houses, fire stations, churches, mews, railroad stations, water towers..... My grandpa's mill house would have fit in perfectly.
Some girls are scared they'll turn into their moms but I say bring it on. She's a gentle and kind soul with a great eye for all things eclectic. While I can't run off to Woodstock like she did or hitchhike all over the world (student loans and a fear of no showers), I'm happy to live vicariously in her books.
Some of her books captured my imagination so fully that I'm still hooked on them 20 years later. I've been trolling used book stores, eBay and the wonderful abebooks to find my favorites so I can have my very own copy, as I wouldn't want disturb the family archives.
First up is the wonderful "Converted into Houses", published in 1976. It contains a multitude of amazing (and amazingly hippie dippy) spaces and their conversion into living quarters.
I was born from wheat bread baking, chicken raising, overall wearing, tepee building, mountain hiking, skinny dipping, yoga doing parents in a depression era farmhouse; so these hippie dwellings remind me of home.
A former chicken coop.
A former butterscotch factory in SoHo. Hmm, I wonder why I love houseplants.
A tugboat. And yes, we totally had those wicker chairs when I was a kid!
A schoolhouse in Sebastopol.
It just goes on and on; sailboats, train cars, ice houses, fire stations, churches, mews, railroad stations, water towers..... My grandpa's mill house would have fit in perfectly.
Some girls are scared they'll turn into their moms but I say bring it on. She's a gentle and kind soul with a great eye for all things eclectic. While I can't run off to Woodstock like she did or hitchhike all over the world (student loans and a fear of no showers), I'm happy to live vicariously in her books.
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