Our Cabin in the Mountains
Our latest project is under way! We’re spending seven weeks in our tiny house in the Blue Ridge Mountains, soaking in the beauty of this place in the springtime. We came with big plans, hoping to extend the outdoor living space to include a covered deck with a table for ten, build a small “laundry shed” (no room for a washer and dryer in the tiny house), create a fire pit for the six Adirondack chairs we brought with us, do some landscaping and add a few other personal touches. Basically we’re attempting to transform this bland, brown park model log cabin into something much more inviting.
We tackled the interior makeover in December and have been chomping at the bit to get back out here for some outside work. So last week we loaded up another UHaul, hitched it onto the back of our little SUV and set the GPS on Warrensville, NC.
Of course plans rarely work out exactly as you envision them. After the help we had lined up failed to materialize and we hit numerous brick walls with attempts to find a local deck builder, Darron and I decided to get out there ourselves and start digging holes for the piers. And, no big surprise, it rains a lot in the mountains in May so we’re having to be very strategic with our planning. Things may be moving a little slower than originally hoped but we are here nonetheless and we’ve decided to take it a day at a time and just do what our aging bodies will allow.
Although I have to admit that’s a hard one for me. I get this vision in my head of the finished product – this perfect little mountain hideaway complete with string lights on the porch, burgers on the grill and pinon wood glowing in the fire pit – and we’re sitting inside waiting for concrete piers to dry and praying some helpers show up and the days on the calendar are flying by.
If I default to my natural state in times like these I will be frustrated and antsy and I’ll miss the wonder of it all. So I’m focusing on quieting my default push-to-the-finish-line self and seeking instead to become a child of wonder.
Life in the heart of this small Texas town brought a different kind of charm with its cow pastures and midnight trains and it restored some much-needed margin.
I remember the feeling 22 years ago when we bought our property outside of Gunter. We were living in Plano at the time and we would load the kids in the car along with a picnic lunch and drive up on Saturdays to sit on a blanket and dream about our future home. Just crossing 380, the noise and the traffic and the crowds would thin out and we could feel our breathing slow and our bodies relax as we crossed into country living.
We did build that dream house and it was lovely but over time life quickened its pace again. Our kids became teenagers with jobs and cars and lots of activities. The house and the land took a lot of time and money to maintain and when the market crashed in 2010 we turned it all in (except for the kids) and opted for a smaller, simpler life in our Celina 1920s craftsman. Life in the heart of this small Texas town brought a different kind of charm with its cow pastures and midnight trains and it restored some much-needed margin.
But that’s changing too. We still love our lives in this little community but it’s very quickly becoming not so little. I don’t know who opened the floodgates but people are pouring in by the thousands and this quiet country town is starting to feel a little noisy and trafficky. Even a bit fast-paced at times. Not complaining. Just observing. And reflecting on how our default always moves us toward faster and busier.
Noticing also that it can be hard to hear God’s voice when I’m surrounded by noise. I need to retreat to a quiet place and be still long enough to align my heartbeat with His.
So here we are. Once again we’ve discovered a plot of God-kissed earth that seems to have called us by name. It beckons me to take off my shoes, awakens my soul to the wraparound beauty and begs me to sit in wonder. And I’m realizing something. That perhaps a successful trip – when we pull out of here next month – is not so much that we completed everything on the list but that we slowed down enough to hear the voice of our Creator, which never fails to be immensely valuable and enlightening and perspective-shifting.
More pictures to come when the real photographer gets here in a few weeks!
xo,
Jana