We booked this place for my daughter’s wedding weekend not expecting magic, just a spot with working plumbing and decent proximity. What we found instead was something close to a portal.
From the outside, it looks like a quiet farmhouse tucked between Delphi and Monticello. But once inside, it’s clear this house is something else entirely. Every corner, every bookshelf, every bit of décor feels like it was curated by someone who reads until 3 a.m. and never fully left Narnia.
The house is packed with character literally and figuratively. There are books in the stairs, quill pens in the corners, fairy lights hanging from branches indoors, and themed rooms that feel like story chapters. The Lewis Carroll room (what we called the Fairy Room) has glowing blue light, hanging flowers, and a pocket watch staring you down like it’s judging your life choices.
There’s something cozy and wild about it at the same time. The shower has a rustic wooden fixture that made me feel like a druid might appear with a prophecy. The bedrooms are a blend of Victorian antique, cabin comfort, and whimsical librarian. Even the pink chair in the sunbeam feels like a main character.
But the real magic is Emma, the host.
Karina’s grandfather, Denny, drove himself up from Texas. He’s in his 70s and accidentally arrived a day early, before we’d even checked in. Emma didn’t hesitate. She welcomed him like family, gave him a spot, and made sure he was settled in without drama or hesitation. That kind of hospitality is rare, and deeply appreciated.
The next morning, Denny drank coffee in the garden like he was Gandalf on sabbatical. That night, he sat down at the house piano like he’d always lived there.
The kitchen was a gathering point for us. The morning of the wedding, we woke slowly. Coffee brewed. Breakfast was homemade: corned beef hash, veggie scramble, mango juice, and sourdough toast so generously buttered it could qualify as magic. It set the tone for a calm, joyful day.
Now, full disclosure, there are quirks. The toilet paper is so thin you could read Alice in Wonderland through it. The water tastes like it came from a wishing well (because it probably did). Minor things, and honestly, they just add to the folklore charm.
This isn’t just a place to crash. It’s a place to stay. To feel. To remember.
If you want clean lines, sterile modernity, and white noise machines, keep scrolling. But if you want character, heart, and hospitality that sticks with you..book it. No pun intended.
And Emma, if you're reading this: thank you. You didn’t just host us. You gave us a weekend full of stories we’ll be telling for...
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