What I learned building a tiny cabin with my husband

I am looking out the window at whirling snow. listening to the 10% Happier podcast, where the host Dan Harris is talking to Brene Brown about vulnerability, while we are in the midst of a pandemic, while it feels like the world itself is swirling, the gray squirrels are racing around the yard, I assume searching for food and shelter. That is what I feel like right now, like the squirrel balanced on the branch of the crabapple tree, bushing its tail against the wind, hanging on, still reaching for the last of the dried red fruits on the tree.

In these “just hangin’ on” times, I have learned it helps to focus on doing concrete work that has visible results. I think that’s why people are into making bread right now. You gather the materials, and put them together, throw it in the oven, and in the end you have something visible to touch, and smell, and taste, that you made with your hands. It’s so rewarding!

Building our tiny cabin together, is like that feeling to me, times 1000! Because we get to use it again and again, and continue to make it ours. And everything in it retells a story. Like my writing desk (which also serves as a cribbage playing desk and a breakfast bar). John made it from a dead oak tree that he took down himself, sliced with his chainsaw, and finished with epoxy resin (and now you see why he is @modernnorthwoodslumberjack!)

And cool uses for relics from the past, like the metal siding we made from old semi-rusted/ high character metal roofing from the family farm Up North. Something that was set aside for years is now being enjoyed and appreciated!

The reclaimed door and windows we picked up at Bauer Brothers Salvage bring with them their untold stories, and are brought to life again, creating new stories.

Every surface was touched, and formed, and put in place by us by hand. And we built it together, bringing this vision to life, as partners. Though John did more of the heavy lifting (literally), I got to learn and do so much, measuring and cutting and using ALL the power tools, and I can happily point to the birch slices I cut and glued that form the upper wall design, the antique stove I polished & the interior pine walls I helped build. I cannot adequately describe how much I cherish that feeling every time we are there, using and enjoying the space. Just sitting by the woodstove with my cup of coffee, looking out the window to the snowy woods brings me such peace and quiet happiness. I wish for you, the opportunity to make things with your hands, to use and enjoy. It doesn’t have to be a tiny house (it took a year and a half for us to build this 12 x 8 cabin!); perhaps start with something smaller, like a coffee cup to enjoy as you hold it each morning, or a loaf of bread that you make into the best grilled cheese sandwiches ever? Here’s hoping that whatever you are able to create, brings you bits of joy in these times, and in the days ahead!