August 27, 2006
~Our Wedding Day~
Easter Morning Brunch
Breckenridge
~Dick and Nanci at
In North American culture, the cabin holds a unique place in our collective consciousness. Enshrined in the best traditions of grass-rooted nostalgia, the cabin symbolizes those bedrock frontier virtues of self-reliance, sturdiness, simplicity, humility and--by inference--honesty. By its very lack of pretension, the cabin connotes a purity of life whose loss we yearn to recall. ~Don Metz~
August 27, 2006
~Our Wedding Day~
Easter Morning Brunch
Breckenridge
~Dick and Nanci at
Put me in, Coach!
I suspect that the other team won as these guys really didn’t seem to have their heads in the game.
I easily cupped him in my hands and in a comforting way, began to talk to him in a soothing voice while trying to figure out what was wrong. Had he fallen from a nest? Was he sick? Obviously something was amiss and I so wanted to help him. Here I was at six in the morning, trying to run through my extremely limited knowledge of how to take care of a sick bird.
With the finch in one hand, I lowered my bird feeder with the other so that I could get a few seeds to feed him. Meanwhile I called to my husband asking him to find an eye dropper so that we could get liquid into him. Gosh, I just didn’t know what to do and was grasping for whatever solution I could come up with. Could I find him a worm and mash it up? Would he eat it? Would he drink water from the eye dropper???? I just didn’t know what to do. In the meantime, we discovered something wrong with his beak so my husband took the tweezers to dislodge whatever seemed to be gluing his beak together.
And with that, my sweet little finch, took a few rapid, frightened breaths and died in my cupped hands.
This sounds so silly but it seemed like a Biblical moment.
Matthew 10:29
Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.
With the sweet finch in my hands, I talked to God and asked him if he had taken the little finch home. And in my heart, I knew the answer was “yes”.
Laundry Day in Them Backwoods
O.M.G.
Living in a small house has many positives.
Living in a small house with my husband has many positives too!
However…
His version of doing laundry differs from mine. Greatly!
I came home from work today to freshly-washed laundry strewn all over the mudroom.
Yes, “undergarments”
And all.
And of course, this is the day that my dear neighbor, Sara, decided to return a couple of bowls to me.
>>>>>>Inside of the laundry room<<<<<<
With the laundry hanging up all over the place.
"Undergarments"
And all.
Mortification
Well it is understandable that on a hot day, the guy didn’t want to heat up our little place with the dryer but still…
The timing could have been better!!
I am now going to go looking for my dignity.
Maybe it's here underneath his boxers.
In the mud room.
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest! if you must; but don't you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As everyone of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don't give up, though the pace seems slow;
You might succeed with another blow.
Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor's cup.
And he learned too late, when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out;
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt;
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit;
It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit.-anonymous
Good Morning, Beautiful!
Farewell Handsome!
My husband, R, thinks I live in a Disneyesque World of Wonder and maybe he is right! I envision myself surrounded by the adorable critters of the forest and imagine one of my beloved birds lighting on my extended finger as the other birds flock about us.
“With a smile and a song, Life is just like a bright sunny day Your cares fade away, and your heart is young...”
So you can imagine my delight when I spotted this little baby finch dining at my bird feeder (cue the music!). I’m practically clapping my hands in excitement and squealing in delight.
STOP rolling your eyes. This is my Disney movie!
Check out my other forest friends at the bird bath.
"A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you're fast asleep"
I won’t kid you. Downsizing from a traditional house to a dinky cabin was hard on the pride. I had to finally admit that the life of my parents (and many of my peers) was not going to be mine. We had experimented with real estate (to limited success thanks to the economy), sold the large house, and could have stayed in the city in more conventional housing but…
Who in their right mind really wants to go back to the shared walls of condo/townhouse/apartment living?
And who in their right mind prefers the sounds of traffic and sirens over the wind in the trees and chirping birds in the morning?
Well maybe if you are from New York City, but I’m not!
But I’m going off point here. It did hurt my pride to move into such “unusual” housing. Even though I love nature, the great outdoors, and the more rustic lifestyle. Even though I’m intrigued by the charm of yesteryear and I love to imagine what life was like long ago. But dreaming about it is quite different from living it. And again, feeling the need to defend our choice to friends and family meant that my pride took a hit. It was announcing to the world that we were economically challenged. We were announcing that we had embraced thriftiness and had become penny-pinchers. And I have to admit that I swallowed my pride (and still do, in fact) when inviting others to our home. I feel the need to explain. Why is that? False pride, rearing its ugly head.
But when I don’t have to pretend for others, I can go on and on and on and on ad nauseam about our wonderfully simple life. We wake up to elk and deer on our property. We have had bear on our property—including an adorable little cub just last year! The meadow next to our home is full of wild roses and a variety of ferns and wildflowers. I have numerous seed and hummingbird feeders all over the property. Most importantly, we are a part of a neighborhood of wonderful and caring people who also have shunned city living—we have a neighborhood that is a throwback to days gone by.
Yes there are challenges--
First of all, we don’t have a well. Our water is delivered which means that we have to conserve water—short showers, washing dishes by hand, watering the garden with buckets of water rather than with a hose.
Secondly, our original source of heat was a wood-burning stove. That meant bringing dusty logs into the house, getting up in the middle of the night to stoke the fire, not to mention the felling of trees, and stacking of wood. No turning the thermostat up to a comfy 75 degrees. Now we have propane but again, it is delivered so we have to monitor our usage.
Thirdly, our place is small. There, I’ve said it. It is compact for sure. So when I shop, I can’t go nuts with my purchases because I have very limited storage. I have to employ the wisdom of “when you buy something new, something else must be purged.” I only surround myself with things I care about (my books, my sewing, family photos)—everything else is stored in our sheds. But honestly, does one really need to pay for a house and the upkeep in order to fill it with meaningless junk? Downsizing meant becoming an organizational wonder. Finding creative ways to store the necessary stuff that one needs in the house. I’m not saying that it was easy. Nuh uh, not on your life.
So yes, my pride was wounded. I was embarrassed to be in a tiny home. But would I trade my new life for the old one? Not on your life. I abhor going into the city. I’m quite content in my little dwelling. This is living life the way it is meant to be lived!
So our little weekend getaway was planned as a stress reliever after
A weekend camping and boating at
DEPARTURE: So we packed up the tent trailer, my husband “R” got a new bike rack for the back of said trailer and loaded up our bicycles, and off we went to our pleasant little getaway.
HOWEVER…
The bumper of the tent trailer fell off in the driveway as we were pulling out.
Okaaaaaay…a bit of a false start.
Well we stopped to remove the bikes from the bumper and set it aside. Rearranged camping supplies in the back of the truck so we could stuff the bikes inside. And we were off again. Just a little hiccup. No big deal.
Arrived at the campground right at noon and it was hotter than HECK. That nasty little pine beetle has devastated the forest up there and acre upon acre of forest has been cut down so the pines don’t fall down and kill anybody. So no shade. BUT we had the canopy on the tent trailer so we made our own shade! Just another little hiccup but it won’t quash our fun!
Finally, finally, finally got out on the boat on Sunday morning, ready for a glorious day of sunshine and fishing and sunbathing and reading on the lake! Whoo hoo! Launched the boat, turned over the motor, and…….nothing.
No go.
So my handy husband “R” applied bit of mechanical wizardry and at last—no the motor did not turn over—finally we got it back on the trailer and over to the mechanic.
But we are on vacation so I’m not gonna let this get me down!!! The boat mechanic is on the outskirts of
Dang, being broke has caused me to develop such restraint. I simply cannot drop $40 on a brightly colored rug even if it does have a black Lab that would be a lovely reminder of our sweet Quincy Boy. Shucks, I simply cannot do it. I pick up two clearance t-shirts for “R” at some cheap touristy store instead. Phooey.
Well we continued our drive and tried to see past the brown and dead trees. As we left the park, we were rewarded with a wonderful sight! A female moose (cow) was grazing next to a meandering stream. Automobile drivers were pulling over like crazed paparazzi to get the photo op of the year! And we were one of them!
We gazed at the gorgeous sight and reluctantly went back to the car to head back into town. And after killing a bit more in town, we got a phone call from R’s youngest. His older brother had been in a bicycle crash and was in intensive care. His most severe injury was a ruptured spleen and he had internal bleeding.
We rushed to get the boat from the mechanic, deliver it to storage, pack up the campsite and hit the road. Got to the hospital in
ARRIVAL: 11pm and we were finally tucked into our bed and fast asleep both happily contented to have had a relaxing and stress-free weekend away from home.
Except for those blasted hiccups.