It’s raining here, again, or still, and while that usually makes me wish I lived in a big house with lots of room for May Blossom to run around indoors, images like the ones on those sites make me long for a cabin in the woods. Then we would stay inside only if we really had to, or wanted to, and otherwise we would put on raincoats and boots and play out in the elements. In that iteration of my life, if I wanted to buy gumboots in summer, which is when it tends to rain a lot where I live, I would not have to trek to Kmart, only to be looked at like I am three-quarters stupid and told that they don’t get waterproof boots for adults or kids until winter. Winter, when it is quite dry here. Idiots.
If we lived in a cabin, we wouldn’t have so much stuff to end up strewn from one end of the house to the other. May Blossom would have a few wooden clothes pegs and a corn dolly and she’d be happy. Maybe when she turned two we would give her a small hatchet.
If we lived in a cabin, I’d cook what we grew, and what we had in the storecupboard. I’d be less indecisive about dinner and more organised.
If we lived in a cabin, H wouldn’t have to go to work in an office all day. We wouldn’t need much money because there wouldn’t be any shops.
Then again, if we lived in a cabin there would probably not be hot running water or thai food delivery. There wouldn’t be friends living around the corner and down the street. There might not be high-speed internet, so I couldn’t check my blog stats every five minutes. A wolf or a bear might eat Gusto.
I might stay here, for now.