I am thankful. I’m working on my farm today. I’m getting my cabin ready to move it. It’s a long, arduous process. It refuses to meet any of my self-imposed deadlines, but it is progressing.
How many people can honestly say that the house they inhabit is paid off? How many people own a mortgage — or are owned by one?
My little cabin is tiny, it’s true. It doesn’t have many of the amenities considered “essential” in the modern world of the USA. It has everything I need. It’s warm and weather proof, it has places to go and be alone — with doors to close. It has a good sized gathering-place kitchen that dominates the whole first floor (which isn’t that big, so don’t be too impressed).
It’s a small footprint on the farm. It’s something that makes living in the woods nicer, easier and more enjoyable. It’s quickly becoming home. The farm has always been “home” but now the cabin is further defining that term.
I’m less stressed than I was about getting here at a particular time. I’m learning a bit of patience — as unbelievable as that sounds even to my own ears. I know, viewing the progress we have made and continue to make, that I’ll live here soon. It will happen.
In the meantime, I’m enjoying the process. I’m loving it. I’m building my cabin by hand, finishing it off by hand and paying cash (not accruing debt) to make it happen. Sure, hiring in the work would be faster and borrowing money to do it would be easier and we would be living there sooner, but that’s not what I want.
I want to know the systems. I want to be able to repair them if they break. I want the freedom that knowledge brings and the ability to be self-sufficient that I’m “building in” to my home. It may not be the easiest path, but it is a superior path for me.