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NARRATOR: Not everyone lives in a suburban tract house, or wants to.
But a shipping container?
An airplane hanger?
A whisky barrel?
Building the house out of a whisky vat's
more like building a boat because it has this shape to it,
and it could actually probably float.
NARRATOR: What about a church?
Someone'll say, "Are you the church lady?"
[ Chuckling ] I suppose so.
NARRATOR: Stick around for a tour of some amazing living spaces,
and meet the people whose creativity and vision
made it all possible.
-- Captions by VITAC --
Closed Captions provided by Scripps Networks, LLC.
Upland, California, is a small suburb east of Los Angeles.
In the foothills of Mount Baldy
is this home made from repurposed shipping containers.
We wanted to build the house
out of recycled shipping containers
because it's environment friendly.
It was cost-effective and economical.
It gave us a contemporary, modern, industrial feel
all across the house.
NARRATOR: Hussain Zaidi lives here with his wife, Avani,
and their two daughters, 5-year-old Isha
and 2-year-old Reina.
Their 4-bedroom, 3½-bath home started out
as five empty, decommissioned shipping containers
that Hussain purchased for $1,200 each.
He planned on making the home entirely
out of shipping containers,
but the variety of sizes posed some creative challenges.
The limitations of the containers are
that they have standard sizes -- 8 feet by 40 feet long,
and you can only use them for a fixed area.
NARRATOR: From the outside,
the containers give the house a distinctive style.
On the inside, the main floor consists of a large common space
with living room, kitchen, and dining room,
as well as an office, pantry, and bedroom --
all housed in containers.
On the second floor is the master suite and kids' rooms
with a bathroom nestled between them.
There is even a game room on the second floor.
Back downstairs,
the common space is where guests first enter.
Hussain wanted a big, open floor plan for the living area,
but two containers side-by-side can only accommodate 16 feet,
so he devised a practical solution.
So, we ended up using containers for rooms and storage spaces.
For open areas,
we ended up using conventional wood frames.
NARRATOR: The living room has 25-foot-high ceilings
and clerestory windows with a clear view of the mountains.
Large accordion doors open the space to the outdoor patio.
The kitchen and dining rooms are also spacious
and have a warm feel, which was a considerable feat
for a house made out of steel boxes.
ZAIDI: We covered the container wall with recycled bricks
just to get rid of some of the industrial feel.
However, we kept the block wall here in its natural color.
We have not done any finishing on this.
NARRATOR: The industrial feel is in full effect downstairs
in the shipping containers.
It can be seen in the details, also,
like the steel staircase that leads upstairs.
Here, the game room and the master suite
are the only rooms that are not made out of containers.
They did, however, use containers
for the girls' bedrooms.
The outer walls lend the shared bathroom an industrial feel.
Drywall softens the look, but it's also a necessity.
This is a container wall facing the exterior.
We had to put wood framing inside
and then insulate it
because containers do get hot.
NARRATOR: Look carefully in the hallway,
and you'll notice the containers are actually different sizes.
The different heights afforded Hussain
some artistic opportunities,
such as the recessed wall above the shorter container.
So, here you can see this is a short container
and this one's a long container.
The heights are also different.
This is 8-foot high, and this is 9½ feet.
This was done more for aesthetic reasons.
We had, as you can see, lighting up there,
and it also gives the feel the container is floating.
NARRATOR: These containers have come a long way.
After Hussain purchased them,
they were thoroughly cleaned and painted gray.
Then doors and windows were cut, all off-site,
before being reassembled during the construction phase.
Today, they serve as the highlight of the home.
One even houses the water heater,
which is accessed through the large doors.
Hussain and his family applied imagination and creativity
to turn five metal boxes into a stylish hybrid home.
Less than an hour south of Madison, Wisconsin,
deep in the dairy region, there's a farm built in 1949
where instead of a herd of dairy cows,
you'll find a family.
This renovated barn includes five bedrooms
and five bathrooms on three levels.
Most of this couple's city friends
were surprised by their move to the country.
RIVER: We got out here, walked the land,
walked through the house, and I was really excited,
and I said, "Hank, what do you think?"
And he said, "Oh, no way.
That house -- It's a money pit. There's no way."
And I said, "Who cares about the house?
The barn -- We can convert the barn!"
The construction project began
by rebuilding the barn's exterior.
The walls at both ends of the barn were removed.
New ones were built on-site and lifted into place.
Then the long side walls were removed and rebuilt in sections.
Polyurethane foam was sprayed to encapsulate the entire barn
and provide three times the required insulation --
an important feature during Wisconsin winters.
The barn home now has three stories
and a total of 9,000 square feet.
The main entry is on the middle floor,
where huge towering arches
show off the original barn structure.
When we first saw this barn, I thought I was in Noah's Ark.
It was stunning,
and we wanted to leave these arches just as they were.
NARRATOR: The original arches -- a staggering 54 of them --
are made out of Douglas Fir.
The open floor plan creates
almost 4,000 square feet of living space
and includes an expansive kitchen and dining area.
The top of the barn is a loft
that provides the family with private quarters,
and granddaughter, Izzy, a play room.
When the architect came to us with his initial drawing
and he had two whole floors and it was enclosed,
and I said, "No."
Because we've got this huge 25-foot space up and down
and then 36 feet across and 103 feet.
If we're not going to let it look like a barn,
then we might as well just build a house.
NARRATOR: Hank wanted to install a floor
on top of what is now an indoor pergola.
If there was a floor there, it would've taken away
so much of the light coming in from our skylights,
and I didn't care that there would be floor joists.
I thought it would just add to the ambiance of our huge barn.
After all, it's a barn.
NARRATOR: Evidence of the barn's original purpose
still remains embedded in the ceiling --
100 feet of track that moved hay across the barn.
Down on the bottom floor is the original milking parlor,
now Hank's workshop where he spends nights and weekends
finishing the house.
The conversion took six years,
but Hank and Heidi say the long project
actually strengthened their marriage.
We didn't kill each other, so we've grown stronger.
[ Both chuckle ]
"The one good thing about this is
the next barn we renovate will be simple."
And we both had to laugh because that was
the most outrageous thing we could think of.
[ Chuckles ]
When Joab *** decided to convert
an old airplane hangar in South Carolina,
he made a list of everything that needed to be replaced --
windows, air conditioner, and...
horse trough?!
***: I was at the Tractor Supply store,
saw this six-foot horse trough,
and I thought, "That'll work perfectly."
NARRATOR: Welcome back.
We're on a journey to uncover the most interesting homes,
including a California home made of shipping containers
and a dairy barn in Wisconsin.
In Columbia, South Carolina,
just 250 yards from an airport runway,
our next home was once an airplane hangar.
Now it's renovated and separated
into seven separate loft apartments,
the largest of which belongs to the structure's new owner.
***: I did not want to live in a conventional house.
I wanted open space,
so when I found this building,
I was very excited about doing my own thing here.
NARRATOR: Joab's own loft apartment
measures just under 2,000 square feet.
This former airplane mechanic's shop has 16-foot ceilings,
a spacious living room and kitchen,
an open bedroom with a bathtub in the suite,
and a guest room and office
with its own private bathroom and closet.
Having this space is just, you know, it's wonderful.
Come home and look up 16 feet and feel the space.
Just a mile from downtown Columbia, the state capital,
Joab started the project without any architectural blueprints.
All he knew was that he wanted to preserve
the 1940's airplane-hangar architecture.
***: The barrel roofs are indicative of hangars,
and the bow trusses.
NARRATOR: Up a flight of stairs,
there's an additional living space
and a cozy loft that serves as the media room.
The original steel beams were sanded and painted red.
When I got the building, this was all exposed space.
You could see the roof rafters.
The beams were unfinished. Actually, they were rusting.
NARRATOR: A wood ceiling was installed over insulation.
***: The ceiling is a pine tongue and groove
of 16-foot boards.
It was a lot of fun putting these up.
We were actually upside down on scaffolding doing that.
Felt like Michelangelo must've felt like back in the day.
NARRATOR: Red-brick walls, stained concrete floors,
and iron windows in the living room and bedroom are original,
but the lower part of the windows had to be modified.
When I got started with the building,
all of these windows were stationary.
They were solid steel panels here that weren't movable,
but in order to meet city code, we made them operable windows
so you can kind of get in and get out
if you had to in case of an emergency.
NARRATOR: Exposed ductwork for heating and cooling
spiral and bend through every room.
***: We had to put the air handler in the closet
because there was no place else to put it.
And that left me with the challenge
of trying to figure out how to get the pipe out of the closet
and in a good place, visually, to hang the pipe.
So this is what we came up with.
NARRATOR: With no fear of the unconventional,
Joab combined the master bedroom and bathroom
into one large space.
The signature feature is a 100-gallon tub.
***: I was at the Tractor Supply store,
saw this six-foot horse trough,
and I thought, "That'll work perfectly."
So, I have a horse trough for a bathtub.
NARRATOR: In the kitchen, Joab installed modern, bright-red cabinets.
***: I like the red because it pops.
NARRATOR: And a 15-foot concrete countertop
was poured and formed on-site.
***: We formed it up and poured it in place.
So, what we did, we trowel finished it.
We get some cracking and so forth,
and that's just kind of the nature of concrete.
The imperfection, you know, it's just character.
NARRATOR: The industrial theme continues with a vintage motorcycle
and a black-and-white photo on canvas.
A chalkboard wall outside the office
reminds visitors of not only the building's aviation roots,
but Joab's love of flying.
***: It's hard to be this close to the airport
and not want to fly.
I picked up flying lessons a couple years back.
I love to fly.
NARRATOR: Joab's goal is to earn a pilot's license,
and luckily, living in this converted airplane hangar,
inspiration is never too far away.
Matt Christman discovered a treasure map of sorts
when he and his wife, Alona,
decided to convert this 1927 fire station
into their home.
NARRATOR: We visited unique homes that, at one time,
were a shipping container, a dairy barn,
even an airplane hangar.
In the small, historic town of Bellingham, Washington,
Matt and Alona Christman have turned a 1927 fire station
into a home that is focused less on relaxation
and more on dancing.
After these two dancers turned the main level
into a 3,500-square-foot dance studio,
they built their cozy home in what used to be the boiler room.
[ Both chuckle ]
This is a studio apartment, so it's fairly small,
but for two people, absolutely fine.
Matt and Alona make the most of the small space.
An open kitchen gives them elbow room for two,
and dinner is served at their high-top table.
This is the living room/bedroom.
Ta-da! [ Chuckles ]
The small quarters make for a tight living situation,
but these two know where to find a quiet space
if they need one.
If we actually need separation,
you have to go into the bathroom
because it's the only place with a door.
When Matt and Alona found this space,
it was a cobweb-infested mess --
a room filled with pipes, meters, and of course,
the old firehouse boiler.
Alona's standing right where the boiler used to be --
this big monster thing they'd shovel coal in
to keep the place warm.
Matt and Alona fulfilled a dream
when they bought the fire station
and turned the main level into a community dance theater.
MATT: You know, there'll be performances
with 100, you know, community members that will come to watch,
you know, the little modern dance company we perform with.
Naturally, the dance theater is their favorite room in the house
and the room where they keep their favorite painting.
In the truck bay, itself, in its real rough state,
it had this map that the firemen had painted on the wall.
Matt and Alona were stunned to discover the map,
which had been painted by hand back in 1927.
It shows the location of all the fire hydrants,
so the fellas know where to hook up,
you know, if there was a fire on a particular block and street.
Just outside the dance studio
is another one of the couple's innovations.
The two-story hose-drying tower
turned out to be a perfect spot for a shower.
And at the top of the tower is the entrance to the roof,
which needed some work when Matt and Alona first purchased it.
Back when the architect originally made
the drawings for the building,
he had specified that there'd be tile on the roof.
'Cause it's a mission-style building, yeah.
When the building was originally built,
the city couldn't afford a proper tile roof,
so one was never installed.
That changed when Matt and Alona heard
that Western Washington University
was getting rid of the tile that they had
on some of their old buildings.
And they actually gave it to us for free,
so we went up there and worked our butts off,
[ Chuckles ]
and we got ourselves a free tile roof out of the deal.
This new roof helped restore the building's exterior
to its original design
and brought it to the attention of firefighters down the road
who offered a few of their own authentic touches.
These strawberry lights are kind of specific to firehouses.
And when those lights were on,
it was symbolic of there were people ready
to go out on a moment's notice to help people out.
Well, when the firemen found out
that we were gonna redo the building, essentially,
they brought them back down and gifted them to us,
and I rebuild them and reinstalled them on the building
just to say, "Hey, you guys, thanks."
NARRATOR: Matt and Alona's home
is a fixture of the local dance community
and a tribute to their neighborhood firefighters
past and present.
To take something that's symbolic of all their efforts,
which is this building,
and really fix it up and restore it
and show them that we care about what they do
and why this building is so much more important
than just the building itself as our home.
It really seemed like it was something
that it was worth really breaking a sweat for.
NARRATOR: If you drive about an hour south of Oklahoma City,
you'll find the charming town of Wynnewood.
It has one police station...
one post office...
one traffic light, and two banks.
Since this town isn't big enough for two banks,
one of them had to go.
The common question when people come to the door is,
"What is this place?"
They're always taken aback by the fact
that this is our home.
NARRATOR: Meet Donna and Marshell Love,
current owners of the second bank.
They felt it would make a perfect retirement home,
so they converted this bank into a two-story, open-concept house
that combines the living room with the bedroom,
and added a bathroom on each floor.
The building is actually older than the state of Oklahoma.
It was built in 1896
in what was then considered Indian territory.
The bank managed to survive two world wars,
a Great Depression, and even Beatlemania.
DONNA: It remained a bank until 1969.
Everyone in town remembers coming into this bank
and what it used to look like.
NARRATOR: The bank's conversion took Donna and Marshell nine years
since they did most of the work themselves.
Their total cost -- less than $40,000.
In the kitchen, Marshell crafted the bar countertop
in the likeness of the original bank-teller counter
using soft pine wood.
MARSHELL: One of the things I'm most proud of is the bar.
When you went in to get money, borrow money,
or rob the bank or whatever,
you walked up to the teller window.
NARRATOR: Passers by are consistently fooled
by Donna and Marshell's vintage kitchen,
and will walk in thinking the home is a restaurant.
DONNA: We acquired a 12-foot neon sign
that has "Restaurant" on it, so everyone comes by for lunch.
We even had one man come in at 6:00 in the morning,
and at that particular time, I was feeding my daughter-in-law
and my granddaughter Belgian waffles for breakfast.
So naturally, he thought it was a restaurant
and we were open for breakfast.
He was very sorry to learn that we weren't,
because I didn't have enough waffles for guests.
NARRATOR: Donna loves the generous kitchen storage area,
which makes use of a room designed to protect
much more valuable items.
This is originally the vault.
The walls are 24 inches thick, as well as the ceiling.
It came in real handy as a pantry
for all the pots and pans
you usually can't find in the cupboard.
NARRATOR: The second story is where Marshell and Donna
spend most of their time and serves as their bedroom.
This is our upstairs.
We decided from the very beginning
that we wanted it an open-loft type of a room.
NARRATOR: And if you think their bedroom lacks privacy, you're right.
One of the ladies across the street at the bank asked me,
said, "What about your privacy?
"You're not putting any curtains or walls or anything.
You know, what are you gonna do in the middle of the night
if you have to get out of bed and go to the bathroom?"
And I told her, I said, "Well, I don't worry about it, you know?
"If somebody wants to watch an old man
"run around in his underwear, then that's fine.
Let them watch. I don't care."
NARRATOR: Donna has had a passion for old buildings
since she was a young girl.
DONNA: There are hundreds of these buildings
all across the United States
that are not being taken care of and are currently vacant,
and if people don't get some ideas to what to do with them,
or that fact that you can use your imagination
and live slightly different than the rest of the world,
we're gonna lose an awful lot of them.
And that would be a shame to the history of America.
NARRATOR: Our next homeowner was inspired to convert a house
by the national drink of Scotland.
Really, really inspired.
Building the house out of a whisky vat's
more like building a boat, because it has this shape to it,
and it could actually probably float.
NARRATOR: Welcome back.
We're on a journey to uncover
the most unusual homes from around the world.
The northernmost city in the United Kingdom
is Inverness, Scotland,
home to the famous Loch Ness and its infamous monster,
as well as world-class distilleries
producing Scotch whisky.
Just outside of town is Findhorn Park,
an eco village featuring a home
built out of a 250,000-gallon whisky barrel,
where Australian expatriate Craig Gibsone
combined his passion for the environment
with Scotland's national drink
to create this home.
GIBSONE: Building the house out of whiskey vat's
more like building a boat, because it has this shape to it,
and it could actually probably float.
What began as one man and one massive whisky barrel
grew over time into the 10-room family home that it is today,
with four bedrooms, three bathrooms,
an open kitchen and dining room, and a pottery studio.
Craig hasn't measured, but he estimates the total area
to be about 3,000 square feet,
and, yes, it still smells of whisky,
especially when he lights a fire in the winter.
Craig has been living at Findhorn for 44 years,
and 22 of those have been in this barrel house.
It all started when he and a friend went to buy firewood
cut from old whisky barrel planks.
An old guy in the distillery says,
"Here, you want to look at this?"
And he takes us and shows us
some "real barrels," as he calls them.
So, Roger had this flash that,
actually, he could turn them into houses.
NARRATOR: They bought the barrels immediately,
disassembled them for transportation,
and reassembled them on-site.
Luckily, Craig is a jack-of-all-trades,
and his experience as a ship builder came in handy.
GIBSONE: The walls are slightly sloping, and they're also circular.
There's not a square in it -- the whole thing.
It's quite a task to refit them.
You need to be really skilled.
NARRATOR: Soon, Craig got married and outgrew his one-room barrel,
but instead of moving out, he added on.
One of Craig's extensions is a studio,
where he practices and teaches sustainable living,
as well as painting and pottery.
A professional potter for many years,
Craig sees the value of working with his hands.
GIBSONE: I like to express myself,
but I like to express it in a very wide range.
NARRATOR: Craig's penchant for recycling and stewardship
don't end at the walls of his barrel home.
They extend to his garden, where he produces enough food
for his family to live on year-round,
as well as plenty of fruit for his home-brewed beer and wine,
which he supplies to the community.
GIBSONE: We have a few principles, and one of them is,
like, work with nature, not against it.
It's a process of being patient and not too *** --
not trying to keep it cleaning up
and not organizing nature in a way
that is just happy to your eye.
[ Chickens clucking ]
NARRATOR: It certainly takes vision
to see a 250,000-gallon whisky barrel
as a potential family home,
but Craig's barrel house in Scotland
will have you saying, "Cheers."
When this homeowner moved back home to New York State,
he needed some gentle persuading to see the gem
hidden inside a dilapidated, old flour mill.
I looked around, and I'm like, "Mom, I can't live in a mill."
And she was like, "Yes, you can."
NARRATOR: Our journey to find the most interesting homes around
has taken us to a dairy barn in Wisconsin
and a whisky barrel in Scotland.
In the 1850s, a mill was built in Jeddo --
a tiny hamlet in western New York State.
Here, the old mill has found a new life
as both a home and business.
I moved back to the area from living in D.C. for 25 years
and was looking for a building that I could
both live in and have my shop.
NARRATOR: Todd's antique store
is on the first floor of the former mill,
and his living space is upstairs.
The open space is divided living and dining areas,
a bedroom, a kitchen, and 1½ baths.
For 100 years, the Jeddo mill operated
as a flour mill, saw mill, and cider press.
It was Todd's mother who first saw
the home potential of the old mill.
I looked around, and I'm like, "Mom, I can't live in a mill."
And she was like, "Yes, you can."
NARRATOR: Making the property into both a home and business
took quite a bit of work, though.
Todd started renovating the ground level first
since he wanted to open up his antique store.
Todd and his father did much of the work themselves.
They had to put in a new T-beam on this level
to support the existing one that held up the second floor.
To accomplish this, they had to jack up the building.
The building didn't fall down on us.
That was a very scary day.
NARRATOR: Today, this floor serves as Todd's store,
which primarily sells 19th-Century antique furniture
and interesting odds and ends.
On the top floor, Todd has created
a comfortable and unique living space for himself.
With an open floor plan, Todd faced two problems --
how to separate areas and create more storage.
He came up with one solution -- a floating closet.
BELFIELD: I fashioned it so it looked, essentially,
like a wall, but these actually open.
I'm able to pack all my clothes,
things that I just don't want out.
Also helps break up the space.
NARRATOR: Next door is the dining room,
where Todd uncovered the original door
through which grain had been delivered.
It came in handy when time came to renovate the ceiling --
a unique challenge, since it's made
of 20-foot lengths of metal.
How do we get 20-foot-length ceilings up the stairs?
We don't -- We bring them in
through the original delivery door,
which was boarded up when I bought the building,
and had to un-board.
NARRATOR: Todd also chose colors and textures
that pay homage to the mill's history.
Blue symbolizes the water that powered the mill,
the corrugated steel ceiling, the ripples of the stream,
and yellow, the color of wheat.
The living-room area is a focal point of this floor,
and Todd installed new windows
to take advantage of the breathtaking views.
BELFIELD: I see the four seasons changing
like the miller must've seen back in the day.
NARRATOR: The living room also honors the mill's past.
BELFIELD: We have a real wood-burning fireplace,
and it sits on a replica mill stone
that I fashioned out of concrete.
NARRATOR: A low wall separates the kitchen from the living room.
Todd chose industrial-style appliances
and threw in some antique touches, as well,
like a can of Jeddo baking powder.
Todd developed a number of space-saving techniques
to get the most out of the upstairs.
This raised area serves as a study,
and his bed tucks away underneath it.
My friends kid me that I live in a drawer,
but it's essentially a drawer that pulls out
at night when I go to sleep,
and I can push it back away during the day.
NARRATOR: Todd continued the antique theme upstairs
by repurposing old items to furnish the study,
like salvaged trim around the windows.
He reused an old door as wainscoting.
The master bathroom features a cast-iron soaking tub
and plenty of natural light.
After living with tiny apartment bathrooms,
Todd wanted a very different look.
I made sure there was two outdoor windows.
I put three transom windows in the wall there,
and behind us is a glass door.
NARRATOR: Renovating the top floor,
comprised of only rafters and studs,
posed a different challenge.
It basically needed everything --
heat, plumbing, electric, walls, ceiling.
NARRATOR: For the first six months of the renovation,
Todd lived with his parents nearby.
In addition to the work he and his father were putting in,
he also turned to a local resource
to handle additional building rehab,
like the dilapidated porch.
We have quite a large Amish population in the area,
and they're very good at wood, woodworking,
and it was completed very quickly.
NARRATOR: Todd has given new life to this former mill,
and the antique shop and home he's built
will preserve its Old-World charm for years to come.
In the foothills of the deeply-forested Appalachian Mountains,
Jeremy and Lori Moore live
with their two daughters, Delilah and Kinley.
After driving a commercial charter bus
from Chicago, Illinois, to Hamilton, Alabama,
they parked it on family property
and decided to call it home.
We had to have a moving truck,
we had to have a space to live in,
we had to be able to get it all here,
and we had a very tight budget.
We were able to pull that all together in the bus.
Jeremy and Lori transformed the 42-foot-long bare-bones bus
into a complete home,
including a living- and dining-room area,
kitchen, office, master bedroom, and children's room.
They started with the floor.
The first thing we needed to do was lay down decking
because there was no floor where you're standing now.
You would've fallen right through into the cargo bays.
The bus is not large,
and lack of space can be an issue
for this family of four.
Fortunately, they found creative ways to deal with it.
We fit, oh, what was once an 1,100-square-foot condo
into a just under 400-square-foot bus.
Sometimes things get a little closer
than we all want them to,
but for the most part, it's been fantastic.
Many items have multiple uses.
The dining area doubles as a learning center
with chalkboard windows above.
The seats store spices and other cooking supplies,
and Lori has a unique method for doing dishes.
This setup right here, I think, is genius, and I thought of it.
But why wash dishes and then dry them,
or even set them to dry, and then put them away again?
These things dry where they sit.
I think this is how all kitchens should be.
NARRATOR: Everything has to be contained.
LORI: Keeping things up and off surfaces
is really practical in small spaces.
Things up hanging in its place.
NARRATOR: Climate control is also challenging,
so Lori used a decorative touch that helps with the temperature.
We've covered several of these windows
from the outside with wallpaper
because, in the summer, it gets really hot in here.
And in the winter, they let all the cold in.
NARRATOR: In the back of the bus are the bedrooms.
The first one is for the parents.
LORI: I have his and hers beds.
This was an old waterbed and this chest of drawers
was an old platform bed, as well.
And this is where we keep most of our clothes.
NARRATOR: In the girls' room, Lori built bunk beds and a closet.
This is not a flat-screen TV.
This is a heater,
and it warms the girls' room very efficiently.
NARRATOR: For the entire family,
this is the bus stop of their dreams,
where they enjoy a simple life surrounded by nature and family.
LORI: This is our cottage,
and it's warm and comfortable.
It's home.
NARRATOR: Transforming this old building into a home
left its owner hungry for more light.
The solution?
EDWARDS: We cut a hole in the roof of the grocery store
and put a light well in the middle of the space
with a bunch of windows around it.
NARRATOR: We're back on our tour
of the most interesting places people call home,
including a shipping container in California
and a Scottish whisky barrel.
Albuquerque, New Mexico,
home of spicy food, colorful art,
and adobe architecture.
It's the perfect place to convert
an abandoned grocery store into a home.
What I was looking for was something
with large square footage so that we could use it
as a communal living area.
NARRATOR: Once a neighborhood corner store,
owner's quarters, and separate rental property,
this structure has been combined into one 3,500-square-foot home
big enough for this family and their friends.
Sam merged the three buildings
by adding walkways and new rooms.
The original store space
is now his family's master suite and courtyard.
To make room for guests,
Sam transformed the previous owner's quarters
and rear rental property
into a shared living space that boasts a kitchen,
dining room, and living room.
Where the grocery store used to be
are now the family's two bedrooms,
den, bathroom, and private courtyard.
Sam and Megan's bedroom is where customers
used to buy food and drinks.
EDWARDS: Here in the corner,
we've got what was the original entrance
to the mom-and-pop grocery store,
and right here used to be the cash register,
and there was a deli cooler over here.
As you can see, we had to take all that away,
but makes for a pretty nice bedroom, nonetheless.
NARRATOR: Next to the den
is evidence of the store's original interior --
exposed wooden beams and steel girders.
But despite the 13-foot ceilings,
there still wasn't enough light.
So Sam got creative
when designing an interior courtyard.
EDWARDS: We're right on the street, which was,
of course, a good thing when you're a grocery store,
and not such a good thing when you're trying to sleep.
So what we did is we cut a hole in the roof of the grocery store
and put a light well in the middle of the space
with a bunch of windows around it.
So all the bedrooms in this area
get most of their light from the light well,
rather than from the busy street.
The Edwards have shared their home
with a variety of residents,
ranging from a Croatian robotics engineer
to a musician from Mozambique
who all make use of the kitchen and the living room.
EDWARDS: So, this is my living room.
This part used to be four or five separate rooms,
but we tore out a whole bunch of walls,
really opened it up.
NARRATOR: In the kitchen, Sam installed
renewable bamboo and plywood countertops,
including the large island designed for long-term guests.
The kitchen and all that is a little bit bigger
than what we would've needed for just the four of us,
but we've had up to 10 people living in the house.
NARRATOR: To make living space for the guests,
Sam connected the separate rental property
to the rest of the house,
converting it into four bedrooms and a bathroom.
Sam is an architect,
and used environmentally friendly materials
during the conversion.
The work took about a year to complete,
with Sam and his brother-in-law
doing the majority of it themselves.
Along the way,
they found ways to reuse the building's old material.
We were able to use the wood from the shop
to frame almost all of the new walls and ceilings
that are in the place.
Myself and a friend of mine
who's also an architect who lived in the house
designed these doors and the hardware.
We made nine doors from reclaimed timber and steel
that we got out of the original structure.
I love the house -- It turned out to be a cool project,
and, you know, the end result is great,
so I guess all the pain and suffering was worth it.
NARRATOR: What was once three dilapidated and disparate buildings
is now a warm, spacious home
for the Edwards family and their friends.
After seeing her daughter married
in a beautiful old church in New Hampshire,
Dawn Heiderer was inspired to move in.
HEIDERER: Someone'll say, "Are you the church lady?"
[ Chuckling ] I suppose so.
NARRATOR: We visited homes around the world
that were at one time a bank,
dairy barn, and a whisky barrel.
Welcome to the peaceful New England town
of Center Harbor, New Hampshire, established in 1797.
Here, one woman was inspired to purchase a colonial church
and turn it into her home.
HEIDERER: Someone'll say, "Are you the church lady?"
[ Chuckling ] I suppose so.
NARRATOR: After noticing the church during several vacations,
Dawn Heiderer, an interior designer,
had a magical moment.
HEIDERER: I'd been up here for probably three years.
I would come up and ski,
and really never paid any attention,
but this one particular time,
it was like, "Wow."
It really spoke to me.
NARRATOR: Buying the old church was a leap of faith for Dawn.
HEIDERER: It seemed to be the right thing.
And the more I got involved in it, I kept saying to myself,
"If it's supposed to happen, it'll happen."
NARRATOR: Just before the church doors closed permanently,
Dawn's daughter was married here.
Shortly after, Dawn began renovation.
She started by turning the 3,000-square-foot sanctuary
into a spacious living room.
And upstairs, the former choir balcony
is now an extra bedroom.
It is my guest room, and we can set it up
with a single bed or another bed.
So, this is the choir-loft dormitory now.
NARRATOR: Downstairs and through the door is the home's new addition,
which begins with the kitchen,
formerly the sacristy of the church.
The actual church stopped right here.
And we kept all this old wood from here.
I kept -- this door is actually the door
that goes into the church.
NARRATOR: Pass through the kitchen, and you'll find a living room,
fireplace, and a luxurious addition --
an indoor swimming pool.
The little pièce de résistance is going into the swimming pool,
which is a real fantasy.
NARRATOR: Upstairs is a master bedroom and bath,
along with a hallway where Dawn's family is always present.
HEIDERER: This is all my family.
My grandmother, my great-grandmother, my grandmother --
So every time when I walk up here,
I know I have to behave.
Not only the fact that I live in a church,
my relatives are right there.
NARRATOR: During the renovation,
Dawn preserved most of the old architecture
with the help of local artisans,
like architect Christopher Williams.
Where we could, we were trying to pick up
little details and character from the original building
and bring it into this.
NARRATOR: One of those details
was mimicking the arches of the stained glass
and repeating the pattern on the new front door and windows.
Another design element incorporated local stones
to craft the fireplace.
Out of respect to the church, it was important to Dawn
to keep the old and blend it with the new.
What's really exciting is having this one part
from 1904, then your transition.
You update it to today,
and then you get to the whole new section.
You know you're in a church, but it's not really a church
and it's just gorgeous wood and gorgeous glass
and a fabulous feel.
I love it here. I mean, this is --
It's my home. [ Chuckles ]
NARRATOR: Dawn followed her faith to Center Harbor, New Hampshire,
and is now living in her own piece of heaven.
Southwest England used to be one of the world's largest producers
of hops -- a key ingredient in beer.
Now that the industry is more global and industrialized,
abandoned buildings called oast houses
are scattered across the English countryside.
You can recognize an oast house from a mile away
by the distinctive turrets called roundels.
These were essentially huge ovens that dried the hops.
One couple looking for a new project
knew that an oast house would make the perfect home,
as well as bed-and-breakfast.
KATE: Our children are grown up and left home,
so we thought this was the ideal situation,
and it could be my job
while Sid could go off and do his own job.
So it seemed like a good idea at the time.
The oast house, which Kate and Sid Mylrea call Manor Farm,
has four bedrooms, four bathrooms,
a kitchen, a guest dining room, and a formal living room.
But it was not originally built with living quarters in mind.
The oast house is a building
that was designed to dry the hops.
So, the hops would be picked by hand,
and they would be brought into the building,
and they would be put over a furnace,
dried for 24 hours,
and then they would be shoveled into a cooling room.
Once they were cooled, they were packed
into pockets and tied.
At one time, they said that you could walk
from Icklesham here into Hastings,
which is eight miles away,
through hop fields all the way.
NARRATOR: Downstairs, the two round furnaces
once used for drying hops
are now a functioning dining room
and a modern kitchen capable of feeding
up to 20 hungry travelers.
Upstairs, the furnaces have been converted
into bedrooms and bathrooms,
each with their own unique qualities.
This is the round room. This is the original round room.
This is where it was built,
and this was where all the hops were dried.
So, this room that we're in now
would've been the cooling room
that the hops would've been --
once they've been dried,
would've been shoveled into this room.
This room now has the original beams,
and along the beams,
you've still got the original holes.
The holes are where the sack would've been put,
would've been hung, and cool, dried hops
would've been pushed down into the sack.
You can also see along the top of the beams
some of the nails that were there.
Nightmare for dusting.
The house is filled with the original wood beams.
In the living room, every hole and bit of hardware
tells a story of the building's past life.
And the pointed roof looks just as it did
when it was first built.
Converting the structure from abandoned farm building
to a modern home was a challenge.
The oast was really falling to pieces.
In 1860,
the Manor Farm Oast had three distinctive roundels,
but one fell due to neglect.
Rather than rebuild,
it was decided just to roof over the top,
leaving only two roundels.
The cowls on top were replaced,
but Kate and Sid kept the originals in the garden.
The crowning glory of an oast house is the cowl.
This is an original cowl.
It's been on the top of the house for 150 years.
NARRATOR: Each cowl traditionally has a symbol
or mark of the family who owned it,
and Kate chose a symbol that pays homage
to the Manor Farm Oast's colorful
and possibly supernatural history.
We were told when we first moved in
that the local white witches used to use the place,
'cause it was just a shell, as a meeting place,
and it was known as a coven.
[ Crow squawks ]
NARRATOR: Converting a piece of local history
into a home can be daunting,
but Kate and Sid enjoy sharing their little piece
with others who have come to visit
the Manor Farm Oast House.
From dairy barns to shipping containers,
airplane hangars to whisky barrels,
these domestic pioneers have proven
that you can take almost any space
and make it home.