“Twenty-five cups of coffee and too much circulating in the fresh air.”

Wide awake at 3am. Staring at the ceiling of the bedroom wondering how the damn tree rat managed to get in. Wanting to burn the whole place down but knowing that it probably would not work out as planned and the squirrel would escape harm anyway. I have had this sort of thought for years regarding this shabby little cabin. Tore the whole damn roof apart a few years back looking for the last squirrel…and the carpenter ants… to find only the disturbing evidence of their passing. I guess I left a gap somewhere when I put the lid back on. Either that or the shifting of the ground underfoot has since opened a new hole somewhere. Anyways.

Short of setting a flame I chose to build anew. Idealist tendencies that I have, I chose to build a timber frame…made from the trees on the property, many of which once stood where the new house is going to be. Of course I have not really done this kind of thing before. I have done, or have helped do, minor versions of many of the integral parts of such a project, but that is a far cry from claiming competency. Damn fool am I. Now, don’t get me wrong, there are a number of good reasons to build and it has given me a major project to focus on, but there have been – and I expect, will continue to be- side effects. Sore back and sour disposition not among the least of them.

So here I am -for posterity’s sake I suppose- preparing to share this madness with the world, interspersed with reminiscing on the various paths that have led me to this point. For good or ill, “It come to me in a vision.”


One thought on ““Twenty-five cups of coffee and too much circulating in the fresh air.”

  1. …it’s the “Alaskan Dream.” Don’t light the match!

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