Our Retirement Dream Fulfilled

Gary O' said:

Cabin notes from a winter;

Strolled out to the meadow to mark my territory, early this morn.
4:15 AM
The clouds are gone.
Standing there, looking up, scratching my hind end, peeing.
A brilliant sky, chock full of heavenly bodies.
My have had my mouth open.

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Gary O' said:

Another note I just found, from the very early days of cabin living;


Towards the end our our cabin building last summer, we purchased a futon (saves room in the day) for $25 on Craigs list.
It was a must purchase as the double high air mattress we'd just bought was no better than the undulating single high one.
Yes, we were going to rise to meet the day like most humans, not roll out and crawl to the nearest wall.
As a matter of fact, the last event that helped sway us toward a more bed like structure was early one morning when the wife tried to do her customary roll out.
She got her head stuck between the mattress and the wall.
Arms flailing, legs thrashing, sending tsunamis thru my aching lower back, causing me to scream like a school girl.
It seems that when rolling off, her posterior remained in the mattress, trapped in the swale, pinning my little lady into a helpless position.
After what seemed like several seconds, I did a power roll to save myself, ending up on all fours.

Glancing back at my panic filled thrashing woman, one leg stuck in the air,
I began to point and laugh uncontrollably.

She never really has ever found any humor in any of this

.....breakfast was cold that morning

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Gary O' said:

Maybe tomorrow I'll fall on a jagged tree spike

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Gary O' said:

'how did you manage to cut the top of yer hand?'

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Gary O' said:

More found jottings;

No man can tell another how to live.

Not my place to instruct, preach.
I seriously hate that.
Who is to say what’s best?
Not this wood butcher.
The aim is happiness.
The goal is contentment, satisfaction, no matter the journey.
I’m glad to have this avenue to share mine.


The following is something I posted at another site, early on after our move. It’s redundant in places,
but that redundancy is a sorta proof that nothin’s changed, this is 'where', this is 'there'. I’m home.

A moment of reflection;

I've been struggling of late in being able to put my finger on how I feel these days.

We've been out here 40 days.

We've accomplished more than I thought we would by now.

My wife amazes me...daily.

I even amaze myself.

There's been a flow of activity as we both have our daily chores and our projects, some done alone, some together, but both of us resting (plopping into our camp chairs) together.

We talk together of us never being so happy, so fulfilled, so purposeful.

Yes, we both carry the scars of living, like the gnarled tree in this photo I took just this morning.

But like this tree, there's a renewal.

It's so very hard to generate a renewal when living in the hectic stream of town.
One thinks a good rest will do it, but I'll tell you now, I've kidded myself.
I've just maintained my sanity, and even that is questionable.

This place

This place.....has given me a greater perspective of my wellbeing than I could ever muster within a dense society.

I'm not an outwardly religious guy, but I think of heaven...I'd like to think it's like our little place...
Not some ethereal cloudy place, but a hands on, git dirty abode, a tangibly real place where you can see, feel, taste, smell the beauty of nature.....of God.

Yet, I have this niggling, this feeling of angst (?) that somehow, some way this prize will be taken from me.

A feeling that 'why do I get this?'...I certainly don't deserve it any more than the next bloke.

Surely God is giving me (us) a glimpse of what things could be like... should be like...


Maybe tomorrow I'll fall on a jagged tree spike and lie there bleeding my guts out while my woman is gleefully tending her garden.

Maybe today.

But

Right now

This moment

I have

Contentment

Like I've never known

Or even dreamt of

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Gary O' said:

When off the beaten path, one comes to realize how risky things can get.
Granted, some are paralyzed with fear of what nature has to offer, and never take the opportunity to test oneself

We'd get some pretty horrific winds
50 to even 80 mph gusts were not uncommon
Other than a forest fire, wind was one of the entities out of my control

Then there was me.....

Another little sumpm I jotted down that happened early on;

Well, I did it.

Found a saw stop.

My hand.

I'm careful. To a fault.
But there apparently are times, like today.

I was zippin' off some wood chalks.
No measurement required.
Got into a rhythm.

Forgot....I don't have rhythm.

A stuck pig comes to mind.

View attachment 293135

Thing is, my lovely better half was up at the neighbors.
She hardly ever goes to the neighbors.
Today is nine eleven.

Fitting.

So, after nicking the large artery in the top of my hand, I kept my composure and immediately ran down the road, screaming.

Juuust kidding.

I stumbled around, muttering fond remembrances of my childhood puppy.

Kidding again.

I knew to stop the blood.
Thing is, when one uses the good hand to help the hurt hand, well, there's just no other hands.

I was rather amazed at my sensibilities during what could rapidly develop into a somewhat dire situation, by;

Sticking my hand up in the air

Pressing my fingers on the vein

Pouring water on the cut

Then pouring good Scotch on it

Then finding a clean cloth, ripping it in shreds, and tying it tight.

I stood there looking at the smart phone.
Thought about asking siri what next to do.
Then realized the bleeding had stopped.


Went back to work.

My lady got home an hour or so later.
Got a bit excited about the carnage...'blood everywhere!'.
She should be well aware of my thin, onion paper Irish skin, and I bleed most every working moment of every day.

What agitates me is I didn't think to apply super glue.

somebody posed a question
'how did you manage to cut the top of yer hand?'

Well, that's a fair enough question.
Although, I thought it might've been obvious.

Permit me to illustrate;

Haphazardly put your left hand in the path of the whirling saw blade by placing it directly underneath while the other hand is reaching for another piece of wood.

Hurry

Deftly use the sliding feature of the compound sliding miter saw;
pushing down and forward while it's wind milling (not under power) during a state of confusion
as to what's wood, and what's your hand, and whether or not the saw is on,
and what a saw is, while considering changing your political party affiliation.

Permit the teeth to grind into your flesh until it stops.

Wince

Bug your eyes out with amazement at the idiocy of the event

Call yourself several defamatory names

Bleed on everything

That about covers it

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Gary O' said:

Thank you for the kind words, sister

I do plan on this thread to be a lengthy one.

I'm a wood....and word butcher

Sometimes the words come together

Sometimes I even write them down

...and sometimes I find them...buried in a file, or a pile of files

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