Pulling into the rambling gravel drive of Frankum House, I assumed the property dated to the early Edwardian period at the latest, and to the Victorian era at the earliest. The house presented as pretty and delicate as the painting on a porcelain plate, situated as easily in its Habersham County setting as a young mother hen among her chicks. I searched for the familiar signs of Southern antiquity, a small glade set aside for a family burial ground, a faded white barn with careful millwork, perhaps a room added in haste to accommodate a new baby or a widowed mother-in-law.
Bippity-Boppity- Boo
However, I quickly learned, upon meeting its creator, Halie Frankum, that the Frankum House is a modern farmhouse, built not by the planter aristocracy of a bygone era, but by a new generation of Southern landowners. It stands where a neglected mobile home once settled into an overgrown plot, the transformation as magical as a pumpkin transforming into a gilded carriage.
I’m not sure I can be blamed for initially misdating the Frankum House. The modern farmhouse look is so well executed that, at first glance, it appears as the real thing, albeit one that feels drawn from a Disney film. A closer look corrects the impression. The construction is new, and the usual signs of age are absent: no chipped paint, no pockmarked brick foundation, no uneven floors worn smooth by generations of use, no windows set slightly out of square. In short, it’s the perfect castle for a rural princess.
The Livingroom
The living room revolves around various shades of white and brown with small pops of color in between. Slipcovered sofas and chairs fill the space with feathery volume, like a baker’s tray of Bavarian cream puffs. The curtains fall in clean lines and let in steady light. A neutral rug grounds the seating. There is no balance of yin and yang, only yin with a slight trace of yang.
The ceiling carries that order upward. Painted boards run the length of the room and draw the eye across the space. A wrought-iron chandelier hangs at center, its candle-style lights adding weight and contrast without disrupting the palette.
Across the room, the fireplace stands at the center of the space, its hearth ready for a fire, the mantel set with tapered candles and greenery. Above it hangs a prize deer head that would make Gaston from Beauty and the Beast proud, and around it a scatter of frames that leans into a growing rejection of sterile millennial minimalism.
Near the windows, two chairs face inward with a small table between them. The placement draws the outside in, pulling the eye toward the backyard.
The Kitchen
The kitchen leans into what is often called collected farmhouse or modern heirloom style. It draws from old Southern kitchens without leaning into antiquated tropes. The look is sourced from practical use items: tools used for cooking and serving, along with a few chosen pieces for display.
Once again, the color palette stays tight. Warm whites cover the walls and cabinetry. Soft cream linens hang beneath the sink and soften the lower cabinets. These tones match what sits on the shelves: glass jars, aged metal, pottery, and small kitchen tools. The colors repeat and hold the room together. Open shelving carries most of the visual weight. Plates, jars, and canisters sit in rows, mixed with older pieces that show artful wear. The arrangement feels built over time. Items sit where they are used.
The island centers the room, built from solid dark oak. The surface shows use. A tray of everyday objects rests on top: candles, a small arrangement, a clock, not excessive, yet also not bare.
The sink stands out. It is a deep apron-front country sink set beneath a window, built for real work. It calls to mind dishes stacked after a Thanksgiving meal, water running while grandma rinses the desert plates as mom stores the turkey.
Iron fixtures hang overhead, simple and narrative, adding contrast against the pale ceiling and walls.
In the Farmyard
Outdoors, the porch does double duty, a place to pass through and a place to stay, set up in a way that recalls long talks with grandpa over a glass bottle of Coca-Cola with peanuts, if that grandfather also had a sharp eye for design. A swing hangs ready, blankets folded over the back. A ceramic goose with a blue ribbon stands guard, the kind many remember from the nineties. Small pieces sit where they were set and left.
A basket of eggs rest in plain view on the stairs, gathered and kept close at hand, a reminder that the land still instructs daily life. The hen house matches the rest, kept in order and built to last.
The Build, the Family, & How You Can Benefit
Construction on the house began in 2021. For more than two years, the Frankums lived in a camper on the property with their three children while construction moved forward in fits and starts. They finished in September 2023.
The process did not go smoothly. Materials ran short during COVID. Prices rose and loans stalled. Rain set in for months and slowed progress. At one point, two builders passed away unexpectedly, and the family had to start again with someone new.
Jason Hunter took over the build after hearing about the situation through a mutual contractor. He is known in the area for large, high-end homes, the kind built for clients without the constraints most of us work within. Yet, with a neighborly goodwill, he chose to take this project anyway. Halie credits him with getting the house finished. He worked within their budget and allowed her to bring in salvaged materials and older pieces.
Some of those choices define the house. The oak kitchen island was sourced from a furniture builder. The fireplace and pantry door came from a farmhouse in Atlanta that was being torn down.
Tyler Frankum works as a lineman with HEMC and spent sixteen years cooking in Halie’s grandparents’ restaurant, Ribeyes. Halie handled the design and the day-to-day decisions that shaped the house. Their children, Chloe, Mason, and Wyatt, grew up alongside the build, moving from camper to home as it took form.
Halie Frankum, a lifelong resident of Habersham and the ultimate manager behind the project, looks as pretty and as sweet as a glass of iced tea with lemon. She wears her blond hair in loose ringlets and moves through the house with the lost skill of a natural hostess, pointing out details as she goes. She brings to mind a country music song, the kind about girls in curls, Friday night lights, and fishing on Sunday.
The Frankum House serves as more than a family home, however. It operates as a photography and staging venue, offering an idealized and romantic country setting. The property also functions as a mini farm, with animals, fresh eggs, and outdoor spaces that reflect daily life on the land. Those interested in booking or following along with the property can visit the Frankum House Facebook page, linked HERE.
Conclusion
It would be easy to call the Frankum House a return to something lost, but that misses the point. There was no grand structure here to restore, no lineage to recover. What stood here before was modest and neglected. What stands now feels like a grandmother’s memory passed down and built out, reworked into something lasting. One day, it will be the house people slow down for, the one with a small placard out front that reads, Established 2023.
