If I tried to live in a cabin for real, I would probably complicate it unnecessarily. I possess too many clothes for a small dresser and a short clothes bar on the wall, and like many middle-class Americans, I have too many possessions that do not give me joy but I might need someday.
If I lived in a cabin for real, I would have to pick one with a good patch of full sun so I could garden. A patch of woods at the back would be dreamy; I could forage for mushrooms if I trusted myself to pick the right ones.
But I could see myself buying all the accoutrements for an upscale, organic backwoods lifestyle — an electric composter, solar panels, a small tractor and plow for the big garden patch … and my life would not be any simpler. The so-called simple life could get expensive.
And living in a cabin wouldn’t be like having a retreat there, because after a while I’d get used to the four walls and want somewhere else to be inspired.
However, if someone has a camper they can lend me for a summer, I’d strongly consider camping at the RV park here for a season. Just sayin’.
Words Like Me 