Going rustic.

July 13, 2007 at 12:55 am | Posted in Random babble | 3 Comments

I wasn’t in the city over this past little while. Nope, I spent the last day and a half in a cabin in the middle of the woods. A log cabin. One built by my roommate‘s grandfather. It’s pretty rustic. No running water, no electricity. No modern comforts, really.

And I love it!

Inside, we have:

a wood-burning stove.

A corner filled with all sorts of useful things like saws, axes, hardware, and the like.

In the back, we have the bedroom. My roommate and I slept in the old-fashioned bed. I particularly like the iron frame.

There are bunkbeds off to the other side of the back room, where Cass slept, but I didn’t get a good picture of those.

Outside, there’s the woodpile, which has a ready supply of logs we use to fill the woodbox indoors, which of course we use to keep the fire in the stove alive.

Speaking of which, here’s my roommate feeding the fire! (She has command over the stove. :p)

It was pretty warm down there on the second day, so we didn’t keep the fire in th stove going all the time. Only when we needed it to cook things. Which, given the fact that it’s not quite as easy as throwing something in the oven and turning a dial, took longer than normal.

Our appetites nearly always grow when we’re there. Probably has to do with the fresh air, and the fact that we do more activity there than at home, even without really thinking about it. Going to the river to get water, throwing dishwater and leftover food out into the woods, going for little walks. It all adds up. So we brought along a lot of food to eat, and just about all of it was gone when we came back.

When we needed to wash the dishes, we heated water in a kettle, then poured it into a basin. Here’s Cass washing up.

And of course, the obligatory knitting content:

I did some knitting as well, but not very much of it. I brought the Prairie Shawl down with me. I knit maybe one row before putting it away. There were more important and exciting things to do, like go for walks and enjoy the beautiful view of the river that flowed only about ten feet away from the cabin’s front door.

Isn’t it gorgeous?

Alas, I didn’t get a chance to take a picture of the bat that somehow flew into the cabin about an hour or so after we arrived. We first thought it was a bird, but no, after getting a decent look at it, it turned out to be a bat. It found the open door quickly enough, though, and got back outside again without any fuss. It was neat to see, though.

I love it there. I’d live there, if I could. Part of me is in love with the time when that was a person’s everyday home, and cooking food on a wood stove, fetching fresh water from the spring, all that stuff, was a person’s every day life. Even washing dishes becomes special when I’m there! Being there is like stepping back in time.

A comparison of how different it is there from city life is expressed perfectly by going to bed. In a city, even with curtains drawn, there’s still some light leaking in from outside. Maybe the light of the alarm clock. There are sounds outside of cars going by, or people talking next door, or what have you. There, once we blew out the candle (and we only used candles because all the oil lamps were empty), the darkness was so profound it seemed solid. No lights. It was cloudy, so there was no moon or stars. In bed, I waved my hand in front of my face and saw nothing. It was like suddenly being blind. The only sound was the patter of rain on the roof, and of the beds creaking when one of us turned over. It was something so radically different from sleeping in a city that I was actually quite moved by the experience. I’ve never before seen darkness so deep I could practically touch it.

But now I’m back at home, where my yarn and pets are, and that, too, is special. I’m hoping to go back down there for a few days again before the summer is over, and you can bet I’ll be taking plenty of pictures then too!



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  1. Sounds wonderful! It’s nice to have contrasts in your life. Each one makes you appreciate the other all the more.
    I miss the days when my husband and I would go off into the woods and sleep in a tent. Maybe when the kids grow up we’ll do that again.

  2. you are right, that kitty is being insanely cute! see ya on ravelry!

  3. you are right, that kitty is being insanely cute! see ya on ravelry!

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