This was written last week during my Thanksgiving off-the-grid vacation.
Here I sit on the porch of an old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. I’m surrounded by woods and fields, the nearest road is over a mile away and it is only a lonely two-lane country road. I have no internet, no phone, no TV.
When we arrived, I sucked in my breath. Could I handle a week of this? It was eerily quiet at night and very dark. Coyotes howled. It’s cold. OK, cold for me whose blood runs thin. This place is one big man cave — one bathroom, a kitchen without an operating stove, and a level of cleanliness that does not come close to my bare standards. OK, the bathroom was actually clean, so I was OK.
I snuggled in my sleeping bag on a wide lower bunk on the first night. I slept well. I awoke the next morning after the Hunter had left for his tree stand. He left me coffee — what a love. The Kracken and I went outside to the comfy sofa on the porch so I could suck down some caffeine and get my bearings.
My mind launched into story-telling mode. I did this as a child. I would tell myself stories. Long, detailed stories — the type I would want to read. I spent the majority of the day telling myself a very long, detailed story of a young woman who inherits her grandmother’s farm and turns it into a retreat/vacation spot. It was lovely to let my mind go.
The Kracken and I took a series of walks, both with and without the Hunter. The Kracken is deliriously happy. He’s off the leash, dashing all over, exploring. In his mind, this is the Best.Vacation. Ever. At night he dreams constantly. During the day he is perpetually in motion.
By the end of the first full day, I conquered the farm house/hunting bunk house. The kitchen is figured out, light switches are located throughout the house and comfy nooks for me are tested and identified. I moved a space heater into a sitting room that is filled with afternoon sunlight and it becomes my cozy evening reading spot.
My favorite spot is the comfy couch on the porch. To my right is a huge field of soybeans ready for harvest and the dirt road that leads out to the highway. To my left are two old barns and trails leading into the woods. In front of me are woods just past a large lawn. The lawn has two very old oak trees and the area is chock-full of birds: blue jays, cardinals, finches, warblers and more. I watch them busily chirping and singing as they go about their business.
I am at peace. My mind is calm. I feel good.