When the Power is Out

Creatures of the long silent night. . . Many years ago, the young and adventurous me, discovered a 40 acre parcel of heavily forested property which even the locals had lost track of the  original  owner. It was smack dab in the middle of a state forest. Deep in the middle of this secluded 40 acre parcel in the wild’s of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula stood a 20’X20′ tar papered shanty I was about to call home. It took every penny, but I had to buy the property that had been up for sale for more than 15 years. I was beside myself with excitement! I was 43. The cabin/now shanty was built as a hunting camp in 1963 using real saw milled 2X4’s. Sturdy, well built, no electricity or water as there were no power lines out there in the early days. It was now a dirty, run down and neglected waif from all the years of no human intervention.   However, a local population of mice and raccoons had made a ...

The temperatures this February evening dropped rapidly as the wind kicks up the powdery white stuff and lands it in places where it is least welcomed. The woodstove chimney shivers with protests as old man winter admires his own strength. It seems as if it were forever since the warmth of the sun comforted my old bones. I think I'd even welcome a huge wood spider stomping across the ceiling right now as opposed to this draft streaming through the cracks of our tired old cabin. Husband and I had a serious discussion last week about whether to continue the homestead or move to warmer digs. We even went as far as to contact rental agents, we felt this was the right move, at least at that moment.  When it came right down to it, what we discovered, we didn't have the heart to leave, to just abandon, our homestead children. So until or when our bodies finally have had enough, we will continue to dedicate ourselves and to nurture that which we have etched out of this foreste...