The bathrooms at Pueringer Place were crafted as intimate woodland sanctuaries, blending warm oak, handmade tile, and moody green stone inspired by the surrounding St. Croix Valley landscape. Thoughtful details, soft textures, and timeless material palette create a quiet sense of comfort and refinement. Grounded in nature and layered with craftsmanship, these baths feel cozy, romantic, and deeply connected to the home’s forested setting—everyday spaces elevated into restorative retreats.

For twenty years, I’ve been designing with a deep love for handmade tile—running my hands over its imperfect edges, admiring the way a glaze pools, choosing it for clients again and again. But I had never been surrounded by it in my own home. Last summer, at Pueringer Place, I finally changed that.

It’s a unique feeling that comes with being your own client, a shift from translating the visions of others to navigating a personal architectural evolution. In my home in Marine on Saint Croix, for the remodel of my Hall and Primary baths I set about to bridge the gap between utility and aesthetic. A collaborative effort between my design and the trade partners whose materials make it into a reality.

In the Hall Bath, the challenge was to update the room and maintain its character, leaning into its cheerful disposition. I embraced the history of the home by reusing the existing toilet, sink and tub colored in classic 1980’s Aspen Green. Then I anchored the room with a striking tiled floor with Zia Tile’s “Arroyo” and “Valverde” squares.

Next, I chose to finish the vanity top and shower alcove in a striking Verde Marinace granite. The stone weaves cool greens and warm yellows into a composition that magnifies the organic elements of the space.  

For plumbing I chose House of Rohl cast brass fixtures in a time-honored antique gold finish, their handcrafted shimmer feels purposefully nestled in against the room’s palette of forest greens and buttery yellows.

My journey into the Primary Suite was driven by the desire for a sanctuary, one that addressed the primary frustration of the past design: lack of storage. I envisioned a calming space where every item had a home.

To this end, I designed a custom vanity which included a drawer outfitted with a dedicated blow dryer outlet and holder to keep surfaces uncluttered. The feeling here is deep and grounding, warm and comforting red and pink tones to accompany the green in this space. I started with Zia Tile’s “Rosso Alicante” marble floors laid in a diamond pattern.

Then, to create a sense of structure, I layered Zia’s “Creosote”tiles in a stacked layout for the shower walls and wainscotting, accented by rows of “Posada” tiles at the baseboards, the wainscotting, and the shower.

For the vanity top and shower alcove I used the same granite as the hall bath, to root the space and provide consistency. In contrast to the other bath, the subtle red and pinks in the stone shine through and accentuate these colors along with the green in the space. The House of Rohl fixtures again bring a touch of brilliance. To frame the composition and add a pop of color I chose these absolutely charming School House light fixtures to give the room the warm glow it deserves.

This remodel wasn’t structural at all—just a purely cosmetic refresh meant to honor the bones of my 1983 home tucked above the St. Croix River Valley. I wanted the spaces to feel like an echo of the woods outside the windows: warm oak, earthy greens, quiet textures, and all the soul of handcrafted materials. I kept the original vintage green Kohler fixtures in the hall bath because they felt like such a charming part of the home’s history—too good to erase. The project became something even more meaningful thanks to the friendship that formed with my contractor. He’s a gifted musician and an equally talented carpenter, someone who intuitively understood how special this renovation was to me. He obsessed over the smallest details—not because I asked him to, but because he cared. Every tile line, every trim piece, every tricky transition became an opportunity for him to get it “just right.” It was collaboration at its most human, the kind that feels rare.

In the end, these bathrooms are more than rooms we refreshed. They’re a coming-home of sorts—two spaces layered with craft, memory, and the generosity of people who put a little bit of themselves into the work. Exactly the kind of beauty I’ve always believed in.