The Treehouse on Mount Pleasant

This is the third-floor apartment of a white stucco building on Mount Pleasant that Jake and I rented for a brief period of time in 2021. Our thirst for renovation was unbridled and it was probably the most productive months of my entire life, until I got pregnant and became too sick to continue with the same feverish abandon. The bones of the apartment, affectionately called The Treehouse, were so good. The old leaded windows, thick trim, built-ins, had such warmth and character. When we moved in, it smelled like cigarette smoke, the walls were battered and covered in bad orange paint and the kitchen floors were covered in stained linoleum. I felt like we were its stewards, its saviours. We thought we might live here 20 years, not seven months.

Built by an Englishman in the 1920s, the building sits on parklike grounds overlooking the City of Saint John and the Courtney Bay. While our time there was brief, it was fun turning it around and making it our own.

The sun-soaked living room sold us immediately. The windows are trim were a mess when we moved in. The paint was drab and dreary and the fireplace wall was half painted a dank and mottled orange. Watching the space transform was really satisfying. Most of the house is painted Benjamin Moore's Mountain Peak White, a crisp white with warm notes of cream. A really elegant colour.

Jake finds most of our antiques on Facebook Marketplace, like this dropleaf table and the two balloon-backed side chairs beside it, which we've yet to recover. I have many ideas though, and know they will be exquisite covered in a more interesting fabric.

I always found the simple fireplace a pleasing focal point. The bench that sits in front of it belonged to Marshcroft, Jake's grandmother's house in Wickham, NB. It was covered in a brown mohair, its binding had collapsed and it spilled over with horsehair. Jake had it restored about six years ago and covered in this rich blue velvet.

This is one of a set of six dining chairs. It's made of yew and was custom-built for Jake's grandparents at Liberty's in London. The plate was my grandmother's, brought back with her from a trip to Peru in the 1970s.

Another view of the living room, looking towards the front hall.

You can see why the apartment earned the name The Treehouse.

I was very fond of the little built-in bookshelves, which flanked a north-facing window in the living room. The perfect spot for little books and treasures.

A small oil painting I inherited from my parent's basement collection.

The dining room sits between the living room and the kitchen. It was sparely decorated because we simply didn't have the art and furniture to fill the apartment. I always liked its somewhat monastic feel.

All that space made it the perfect spot for hosting parties and dinners.

When you step through the doorway on the right of the photo above, you pass through the pantry before entering the kitchen. The pantry was one of my favourite spaces in the house. We left it untouched and it was the perfect space for a cookbooks, candles, napkins and dishes.