|Photo by previous owner of cabin in ad on internet in 2006.|
In posts past, I’ve stated that living off-grid is something that The Husband and I have always wanted to do. Well that’s about as telling as “just ‘cuz.” So, as things have been shifting, unfolding, revealing, I’m finding myself again, after, in hindsight, what feels like a decade of bumping around in the dark. Like the dark moon, I was non existent to outside eyes but I was still there. On the inside I felt lost in an endless damp forest shrouded in pockets of thick, heavy air. Introspection. A seed growing that was planted long ago. Waaaay back to my Senior year in high school, I was asked for the Senior Edition of the school newspaper where I saw myself in the future. I quipped off-handedly,“living on a deserted island.” Little did I know I’d actually end up there - kind of. The Keweenaw is a sparsely populated peninsula. Close enough. I have arrived! And then there’s THE BIG DREAM. THE DREAM of all dreams that everyone wants. Okay, not EVERY one, just this some ONE. To be a writer. Well, if it’s THE REALLY BIG DREAM, then it’s a writer in an off-grid cabin in the woods. All tucked away in secret, mystery, and unconnected from the rest of the world. Surrounded by calm, quiet, serenity. Fingers, smeared with purple ink from a favorite yet cheap Pilot Pentel, gripping a steaming cup of rich, hot chocolate. The kind made with real whole milk and chocolate shavings, not the powder. With towering, weightless clouds of whipped cream spilling over the cup’s rim. And sprinkles. Don’t forget the artificial weird green colored, mint flavored sprinkles. Spending the day with hair that looks more like a bird's nest than hair. Donning star and moon printed flannel pajamas and robe seated at a desk in front of a roaring fire. Surrounded by crumpled wads of paper strewn on the floor. A stack of notebook paper on the desk top denoting successful writing attempts. It’s just what I dreamed of. Since as far back as I can remember. My romanticized, made for TV version of the life I wanted. Just ‘cuz. In reality, off-grid living requires a little more work than what hanging around in pajamas allows. But reality has revealed the unexpected rewards and effects of that work. There’s the sense of accomplishment. The realizing that I CAN do it. If I can make my own power, I can grow my own food. (Which is next.) If I can grow my own food, I can being a writer. Just chasing my dreams, just ‘cuz.