Autumn Reflections on Monksville Reservoir

Somehow, and we are not quite sure exactly why, the cabin visit this year has changed us. Instead of being glad to be back in our familiar home and surroundings, we instead long to be back at the cabin. This has never happened to me before. I've always been happy to come back to all that New Jersey is. Not this year. It's hard to put into words. The cabin's magic spell spreads like a cloak around us from all the way across the country.

We find ourselves watching a TV program and deciding whether or not it fits into the "cabin grading system." In other words, if we had a limited amount of electricity at the end of the day would we still want to watch it? If the answer is no we delete the Season Pass off the TiVo. I also have no problem switching off the news when they are not saying anything that I want to hear. It's very freeing in a way. I've decided some shows that I used to love to watch have too much yelling and too much conflict for me to continue watching them.

What is it about this remote 70+ acres of land and a battery-powered 1,000 square foot cabin that entices us so? It's not just about the history it has with us. We had history with the Loveland/Ft. Collins area too but neither one of us has any real desire to move back to the front range.

Rick has always seen us living there at some point in time, for some period of time, but I have never had the same vision. But now I do.

Plans of a small mud room addition are being sketched out. I find myself wanting to whip out the measuring tape to see if a beloved piece of furniture will somehow fit into a space in the cabin. I am starting to go through clutter around the house and tossing things in the trash or making piles for Goodwill. It's still several years away but we might as well get started with at least the planning stages. Besides, it's fun to dream and make plans for the future, don't you agree? 

I understand completely.  When I went back to school to get my degree, I didn’t ever really want to graduate because that meant I had to go back out into the world and deal with workplace crap and real life that school had provided an escape from.  I felt like I was protected in a ‘cocoon’ of sorts and didn’t want to leave it.  One thing though you’re going to have to trade in Mia for a pickup truck with a blade!  Yes?

How exciting, to be thinking about your next steps! Maybe it’s the minimalism, the paring-down, that appeals to you, as well as the geography of Colorado. You know, clearing away the bad TV shows and the extra stuff and thinking about a smaller space. That always invigorates and motivates me, too. We accrete so much needless stuff, so many needless behaviors, in our day-to-day lives!

Planning is gladness I wish you good thoughts, ideas and perfect decisions.

The water looks like glass…it is so still. BEautiful.

C, it’s not that we want to cocoon ourselves. It’s pretty “real” life up there but I understand what you are saying. We would be in a way, retreating from the hectic world into a simpler lifestyle. I’m afraid Mia would not like the roads there AT ALL. :( She will be replaced with an all-track vehicle. It doesn’t do any good to try and go through the snow: you have to go over it.

Steve, you are so right. We do somehow surround ourselves with useless, needless things that we keep acquiring.

Lili, thank you! And thank you for commenting. You are right: planning is gladness!

Kathy, thanks for stopping by!