Christmas at the Durant House

Closeup of the parlor Christmas tree.
The Durant House was built in 1843.

Every holiday season I look forward to visiting the Durant House, a historic home in a forest preserve on the outskirts of St. Charles. To walk through the door of this house is to walk into another world, scented with woodsmoke and the smell of gingerbread baking, and I just love it. I almost titled this post, “If Only I Were a Mouse,” because if I were a mouse I could live at the Durant House, and who would know? So here are some pictures I took–a mini tour of this beautiful place. Here is a link to their website, if you would like to learn more:

Here’s the old kitchen, where meals were cooked in the fireplace. Ginger cake was being served.

A cupboard in the old kitchen filled with beautiful china, and adorned with greenery.

A little side bedroom adjoins the old kitchen. By the bed was this little table with an old book and a butterfly cut from paper.

The Christmas tree was in the parlor. A young man was playing the violin–“Hark the Herald Angels Sing.”

All through the house are lovely vignettes.

An upstairs bedroom.

What a beautiful quilt–you can also see a bit of a woven coverlet.

A new kitchen addition was added in the 1880s.

The kitchen table readied for Christmas.

A Christmas bread.

Jams in the kitchen cupboard.

If only I were a mouse!

One thought on “Christmas at the Durant House

  1. Oh, and how wonderful it would be to spin natural cotton and silk on that spinning wheel! Then, weave it on a loom. It’s amazing how beautiful the simple things are: hand crafted quilts and furniture made with a hammer and saw. (Glue? Never! Particle board? What’s that?) I would take even being a fly to live there!

    Somehow the idea of weaving with grasses entered my mind the other day. Probably because I just bought some bamboo shades. I googled how to do that and there’s very little info. Guess I’ll have to wait ’till it gets popular and shows up at Michaels. Wouldn’t it be awesome to make all our own things like these folks did? Sigh . . .

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