This. Half the year, we live in a cabin in the woods. I could live there all year long. Some might wonder what there is to “do” down our isolated pine-covered lane, but I spend my days (mostly) on the long porch reading, writing, crocheting, playing with the chipmunks, napping in the swing, and enjoying evening cocktails. Before my hip went*, I would happily wander slowly around the property down to the river and back or down our tree-canopied road about a half mile to pick up the mail every day. Then, there’s gardening, bread making, meal fixing, and cabin decorating. Really, not enough time in the day for me.
Two miles up the road is a farm that sells eggs, milk, cheese, yogurt, mushrooms, and meats on the honor system in a small shed connected to their main barn. At the top of the lake sits an iconic New England town with a charming library, post office, creamery, restaurant, farmer’s market, and summer stock theater. We take advantage of these often, but I’m sure some would consider this life too quiet and dull.
The important thing is to know yourself and find that place where you can live the days you dream of—your dream, no one else’s.
*I’m good as new now, so will be doing a lot more wandering this summer.
