Well, this is a much-delayed post.
My cabin got finished (YAAAAY!) and I moved in (YAAAAAAY!) in mid-February (YAAAAAAAY!)
I moved in the midst of an extremely large and demanding work project, which meant that my first several weeks in my home felt like camping. There was no time to get things organized and properly placed (tasks that are not my forte at the best of times and therefore would have consumed a lot of resources that I did not have available) and there was certainly no time for blog posts. But I have hot and cold running water, electricity and Internet, a bar fridge, an induction hot plate, a mattress and my awesome desk and kneeling chair and so I was good to go.
The last weeks of construction and first few weeks of living in my home felt surprisingly fragile to me. The pieces left to do in the last stages were very small, but they felt more overwhelming than many of the bigger elements that had been tackled toward the beginning of the process. I don't know if it was because I was tired, or had less time free from desk work, or felt daunted by the enormity of the transition facing me, or because of my erratic hormones and mood swings (most likely a combination of all of those things), but I felt delicate and teary.
Fortunately, I was able to feel the feelings and do the work and make it into the cabin. I love it and feel very contented and peaceful there. Which is not to say that I don't get tired and cranky and stressed or anything like that, but I feel like I have the space I need to be myself and feel safe in that, and that is an awesome feeling.
 |
| Having the floors stained and polished was a gift from my Mom. The floors are one of my favourite things about my house – handsome and easy to clean. |
 |
| The amazing contractor who stained and polished my floors added a lovely rectangle at each door at my request. I don't know why, but for some reason, these boxes remind me of the department stores I went to as a child: Eaton's and Simpson's. I don't know why that should feel like a good and comforting thing, but it does. |
 |
| And these beautiful stripes in my bathroom/mechanical room. |
 |
| One of my tasks was to sand and stain the material for the wood trim. I should have done it as soon as the trim material arrived, but I didn't and ended up having to rush it at the last minute before the carpentry crew came back in to install it. |
 |
| Painting the bathroom door |
 |
| Forsythia: a gift of spring from a dear friend. |
 |
| Getting so close! The trim and kitchen cabinetry got installed and only the electrical and plumbing finishing remained. |
 |
| The bathroom door got hung with awesome hardware made by the blacksmiths at Ross Farm Museum. |
|
 |
| The back of the bathroom door – distressed. |
 |
| The toilet and shower got installed. The tiling and the bathroom sink are going to have to wait until more money, time and energy are available. The water runs. Some of it is hot. This is more than good enough. (And yes, I do have a shower curtain now, I just don't have a photo of it on hand.) |
 |
| Everything including the kitchen sink! Complete with running water. |
 |
| And the shelving unit on the reverse of the kitchen counter/shelves which serves my office space. Complete with an electrical outlet that was pretty awkward to install. My electricians had to do some super problem solving. They were very gracious about it. |
 |
| Move-in day! While I did spend a few nights at my house during the transition, it wasn't really home until Salinger moved in on February 15th. Here he is, settling in for his first night. It didn't take him long at all to adjust; he also seems to love our little home. |
I had plenty more help during this transition. Help painting, help moving, listening ears and leaning shoulders.
On the day of my occupancy permit inspection, one of my tender-hearted friends helped me move some furniture from my tiny house and shed into the new cabin. We talked and cried and jumped up and down together. I could have hugged the building inspector when she okayed everything – no, wait, I DID hug her (with her permission). There were no snags and I felt again my deep gratitude to all of the dedicated and professional contractors who built my home as if it were there own, with care, precision and kindness. And I was grateful for the more-or-less successful job I had done impersonating a general contractor – I had acquired and supplied all of the necessary paperwork, we had ticked all of the necessary boxes and done everything we were supposed to do.
The cabin is lovely to live in. It is warm. It is bright. It is airy. It is beautiful. It is simple. Everything works.
There are many finishing touches that need to be added. Now that my very hectic work schedule has slowed up, I need to move in properly. I need to move some pantry shelving and book shelves from my tiny home into the cabin. I need to figure out where things are going to go. I need to find the bag of hardware that will let me put my bed frame together. I need to apply linseed oil and varathane to my kitchen/office cabinets and a few coats of varathane on the window sills, too. I need to set up my turntable and move my records in. I need to make myself fully at home.
 |
| Salinger: showing his appreciation for the beautiful, wide windowsills (and not so much for the view of winter outside... ) |
Eventually, as time and money are available, I will have the shower tiled, the bathroom sink installed, and a deck built. This summer, I will try to do as much as I can to contribute to the healing process for all of the cuts and scars on the land that were caused by the construction.
In good time, I expect that the Crooked Wood, Salinger and I will all find our stride to integrate and grow together.
