Chapter 2


A new chapter of life in the cabin began to take form today. After months of planning renovations and site work, we broke ground this morning! By “we” I of course mean the talented individual we have hired to complete our site work. Now that I see it in writing, the term “broke ground” couldn’t be more contraindicated. What happened today was more of a ground repairing…last November, that was when the breaking occurred. But from breaking follows healing. Mistakes made. Lessons learned. Time ticking forward.

To arrive home today was to exhale a slow, stale breath that I’ve been holding since December (sorry for the image but hey, truth can be an ugly beast). The fragmented building lot that is our backyard, strewn in concrete, rebar, exploded granite, and disrupted earth has sat, screaming from its abandoned perch for the past 8 months. Today, I arrived home to a resonating silence. A release of breath, a pause, and the promise of an inhale to come- the emergence of life from ashes. 

Sounds overly dramatic, doesn’t it? I am compelled to chalk this up to my propensity for exaggeration in the name of poetic license. However, I need only to look at the smile radiating from beneath Jim’s beard to know there is truth in what I am feeling. This may just be a backyard. One of millions of building projects gone awry (Where are you and your superhero overalls, HGTV Mike Holmes???). Still, it is our backyard. For 8 months, the shambles of our one-time dream home, which we so lovingly refer to as “the pit,” have greeted me (more like heckled me) as I have arrived home at the end of each day. 


Not today. When my little car crested the summit of our driveway, completing it’s return home, there was no heckling to be heard. No haggard pit, threatening to consume me (and your little car too!) in it’s seemingly enveloping arm of disrepair. Today, I arrived to find the void of the pit filled. The ground smiling with the nearing promise of level earth…do I dare to imagine the glimmer of a future garden site??? The blasted granite boulders, which were literally exploded from the earth last fall, have returned home, blanketed in a layer of dirt that will soon become our driveway to the cabin. 


Our hope is that within a few months, the cabin will be transformed into our current 16X24-foot dream home. My thoughts are frenetic with visions of baking fresh bread in an oven and falling asleep in the winter without the threat of freezing before sunrise (or- equally foreboding- being forced to rise from my slumber- ok let’s be real- forcing Jim to rise from his slumber in order to feed the wood stove). However, in anticipation of the advent of running water, Jim is already worried about “getting soft” from no longer being required to carry in drinking and showering water. There is a small part of me that already misses the excitement of having to step outside to pee (a task I’ve recounted in this blog far more frequently than is at all appropriate). As with any change, I can already feel the joy of new possibilities and the tugging sadness of letting go. 


Who knows what is in store around the next bend. However, amidst this saga of excitement and uncertainty, I know only that I arrived home today to find the pit put to bed and his heckling silenced. I have never felt more at home.


One thought on “Chapter 2

  1. Sandy

    Oh yea, so happy for you both. About missing the “tough” times, you can still go out to pee, and Jim can park at the bottom of the hill and carry 5 gallons of water in for fun… something tells me you’ll get over the loss!

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