My Country Life

Earlier in the week I spent a couple of days at the cabin getting it ready for the plumbing work to begin.  I needed to clear the temporary "kitchen" and "bathroom" to make way for the workers to work.  While I was there, I met again with the man who will be installing my septic tank and doing the plumbing.  We went over the details of how it will be plumbed, fixtures, etc.  He may be able to get started by middle of next week.  If not, it will likely be after Thanksgiving before he gets to it.

About ten years ago I bought a red and white vintage water dipper, like the one I remember seeing at Aunt Annie's house when I was a little girl.  Aunt Annie lived way out in the country, way past Rustin's Lake where we did our swimming in summertime. Her ramshackled, unpainted farm house sat up on a hill, back off the winding dirt road.  A deep porch spanned the front of the house, and it was littered with boxes, farm implements, flower pots, and mismatched chairs.  Chickens scurried about in the bare dirt yard, and a set of rickety steps led up to the cluttered porch. The entry door opened to a central hallway that emptied into a sparse kitchen in the back of the house.  A hand pump mounted beside a huge sink promised indoor water in return for more than a few cranks on the pump.  A red and white enamel dipper hung on a nail over the sink.  If you needed a drink of water, you used ...

I have been dreaming about and planning for a well at the cabin for years now. I first intended to drill the well back in the fall of 2008, but the economy took a dip, and I decided not to spend the money.  A well is a major expense and one that you cannot precisely quantify in advance because the cost varies with depth.  Some costs are fixed: the pump, the tank, and the water line. But there is a huge variable cost; drilling comes in at $10 per foot.  And there is the slight risk and worry that you may drill and drill but not find water.   Thankfully, that did not happen to me.

Freshly Fallen Acorns  The phrase "my country life" has been in my head for months now.  These words first started to knock around up there over a year ago when I was still living at 110 Lamont Drive.  I was in the final stages of selling it, and I was sad.  Even though I wanted to sell and looked forward to moving on, I was blue.  Life transitions are often bittersweet and seem to provide fertile ground for creativity.  So it was in this context that I first had the idea for My Country Life.