Where and How I Want To Live
Take a good long look. This is precisely where and how I'd choose to live for the rest of my days. As nice as my house might have been, given a choice between this and where I am now, I'll take the little cabin hands down. Even though it has no indoor plumbing. These days I go to bed at night dreaming of returning there.
I'd built it as a guest cabin for the main house, simply because the house had only one bedroom. I wound up living in the cabin for two years waiting for a property settlement. And because of that, I resented living there.
I had no idea just how lucky I was. Because today, I look back and realize I had it made. So what if I had to use a porta-potty? So what if I had to drive a half-hour to a gym to take a shower? This was as close to an ideal life as I've ever had, even considering the years I'd spent in my nearly-finished house (ultimately I came to realize it was way too much house for me). If I had it to do over, I'd find a way to stay in the cabin. Forever.
Look closely at the front porch, above: there's my cat Bobby. I miss him as much as the cabin. I miss that simple life, lost in the woods, alone, anonymous, unseen, far away from everyone and everything else. Only a select few knew how to find me.
The biggest lesson the cabin taught me was how little I really needed. At the time I was living there, 90% of what I owned was packed away in a storage container. And, in retrospect, that was a good thing. I didn't need all of that crap—I only thought I did. As it is, I've begun to shed quite a lot of the stuff I brought along with me to my current home. Indeed, of the possessions that remain, most would now comfortably fit. I'd only have to give up my kitchen stuff... which I'd gladly do if I could only return.
Sad to think this little cabin now sits empty, likely to remain that way until such time as the new owner decides to raze it.
I miss my trees so much I ache...