A family of four leaves Brooklyn's Park Slope, fails to homestead successfully in an off-the-grid log cabin in Maine, and downgrades to faux-homesteading in an on-the-grid farmhouse in Maine.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Pinprick-sized snow flakes are falling. Forest just asked for scissors to trim his painting.
Walker is sleeping, and it is so quiet I can hear the beans bubbling on the stove. The day is gray, but my mood is not. Despite the clutter on every available surface (including the floor), it feels cozy in the cabin. I should be cooking, cleaning, unpacking (boxes), packing (for a weekend in Cambridge), but as I was about to tackle the dishes I paused to look out the window. The snow, the trees, and the quiet stopped me. It is peaceful here. Brooklyn feels like another dimension.