The House of Newe
Once, there was a castle named Newe. Now there is only a home, what was once the castle’s old laundry building.
The house is a living museum, filled with swords and paintings of family members and stories hidden behind glass doors.
The family legacy still hangs: tapestries brought back from India. At some edges, the fabric frays.
There are books that tell the history of the area, but the greatest stories belong to the owners, who weave the names and dates together into a grand picture that spreads out across time and space, and is carried into the present moment.
In two days, everything about the house felt like home: the warm fire, the plaid blankets, the carpets spread on every inch of floor, the large dogs that slept wherever they pleased…
And the music. The music still lingers on.
Oh this place looks just perfect. I’d love to just cozy up on that tartan couch and read a book.
That shot of those tea cups is ridiculously amazing. Great composition, depth, and interest.
My heart is beating faster from your words. I feel like I was just with you.
It looks like home should look. I want to move in!
It looks like one of those magical places where you find new little surprises and stories around every corner. Your photos and your storytelling make me feel like I’m there. You have a wonderful way of doing that with your words. (And those teacups are divine!)
magical! i want to be there!
i love that you were there. xo