Enjoying life's adventures in a secluded mountain cabin

Posts tagged ‘cabin’

The Snow Queen

Please allow me to properly introduce myself.  I am known around these parts as The Snow Queen.  Some love me, most hate me, but everyone knows who I am and they know who to blame, or thank, when the fluffy white stuff starts flying up here in the mountains.  I love snow and all things related to Winter.

To me, there are very few things in life quite as lovely as watching tiny little ice sculptures fall gracefully from the sky and land peacefully on the earth to form a bright, white blanket over everything as far as the eye can see.  Day or night, this spectacle never ceases to arouse great joy and happiness somewhere deep in my soul that somehow manifests itself into a giddy little giggle, followed closely by some sort of jumping for joy and clapping my hands together, while smiling the widest of smiles that my mouth can create.

I’m told this is quite a sight to see.  A grown woman exuding the happiness of a child.  What can I say?  I’m just a big kid at heart.  Especially when it comes to snow!  Allow me to share what my eyes saw today here at the cabin.

Snow covered woods

The ridge up behind the cabin

The red, white and blue

The pièce de résistance

And I just happened to see this a few minutes ago.  Talk about purple mountain’s majesty!

Nature at its finest!


Our Respective Corners

Everyone has stuff in their life that means something special to them.  An object in your home.  A picture hanging on your wall.  A favorite pillow.  A warm, cozy throw.  A coffee cup that always brings a smile to your face whenever you reach for it in the morning.   Your favorite writing pen.  A familiar scent that permeates your home.  Your favorite pair of slippers.  Things in life that make us feel comfortable.  Certain little rituals that make our days feel rich and welcoming and our nights feel safe and comfortable.

Some of my most favorite things in this world either didn’t cost me a single penny or were very cheap.  One such thing is the comfort level that exists between Mountain Man and myself.  In our cabin, we each have our “spots”.  He has his big comfy chair and I have my corner of the couch.  Each of us has our little spot well equipped with things we might need while relaxing.  Writing utensils and paper for jotting down ideas, thoughts, recipes, or “to do” lists, the weather station, chap stick, our guns, a small flashlight, ammo, a tiny turtle carved from soap stone and a tiny plastic dinosaur, reading materials, tissue, and the trusty old computer is always beside one of us.  Occasionally, other items will find their way into our little corners of the cabin, but for the most part, the items listed above are staples that are always nearby.

We have been known to share each other’s space from time to time and we will completely swap sides on occasion, too.  But we always end up back in our respective spots in the house.  And I’m not real sure I’d have it any other way.  Well, there is this set of matching his and hers recliners that I’ve envisioned in my head, strategically placed in front of a big screen tv, with a common table between us and a smaller one on either side of us for all of our individual things.  Talk about the ultimate Sunday football experience!!!



Before Dark

We did it!  We finally did it!  Mountain Man and I finally made it home from work before dark today!  That may not sound like much to celebrate to a lot of y’all out there, but I actually got to walk around out in the yard for a few minutes this evening.  I got to see my mountains all around me and breathe in the fresh air.  I got to feel the grass and mud beneath my feet and hear the sounds of nature all around me.

Oh, how I’ve missed doing this.  I don’t get to see the light of day where I work and it’s dark when we leave in the mornings and usually dark when we get home in the afternoons.  It rained here at the cabin all last weekend so I couldn’t get my nature fix then, either.  Getting to walk around the cabin for just a few minutes this evening has been one of the highlights of the last two weeks for me.

What can I say?  It’s the little things in life.

Sunday Morning Routines

Sunday mornings around the cabin are, for the most part, pretty laid back.  They’re usually planned around a football game or a NASCAR race, depending on what time of year it is.  We don’t really follow any sort of strict guidelines for getting things done on this most sacred of days.  We just kinda roll with it and go with the flow and somehow, miraculously in the end, we get everything done that needs to get done.

Going back to work has presented new challenges for me.  I’m a planner and Mountain Man is not.  There’s nothing wrong with that, but I just don’t operate very well on a willy-nilly schedule.  He, on the other hand, thrives on it.  The funny thing about his methods that has always surprised me is that he never, ever gets in a hurry, but he always finishes whatever it is he sets out to do.  It’s just always done in his own sweet time.  He doesn’t get stressed out, he doesn’t get spastic, he doesn’t lose his cool.  He just works at his own pace and it all comes together exactly how he intends for it to.

As I already said, I’m a planner.  I like schedules.  I like routines.  They make my inner psyche less psychotic.  I like to know that I’m gonna be doing this chore on this day of the week at this time of day.  I like knowing that on this particular day of the week, I’m gonna strip the linens off our bed, get ’em in the wash, and then remake the bed with freshly laundered sheets that smell just heavenly and make me wanna sink down as deep as I can get into our bed at the end of the day and just breathe in the freshness.  Have I mentioned that one of my favorite little things in this life is a freshly made bed with clean linens?

I think I might’ve gotten off topic there.  Oops.  Sorry.  That’s gonna happen from time to time.

Sunday mornings.  Oh yeah, that’s where I was.  Anyway, we’ve recently added another thing to our Sunday routine here at the cabin.  I’m cheap and I think Mountain Man has a tendency to wanna save money, too.  I don’t wanna call him cheap because I’m not sure if he’d take that as a compliment or an insult.  But me, I’m definitely cheap.  I rarely ever buy anything unless it’s on sale and even then, it’s gotta be one heck of a sale for me to fork over the cash.  So with all my cheapness and Mountain Man’s love of saving money, we buy two Sunday papers every week and we each take one and clip coupons while we’re watching football or a race.  After all the other chores that we take care of on Sunday mornings, by the time we get around to clipping coupons, it’s actually nice to just sit together and do this little chore.

Sometimes, we don’t even speak.  We just sit there and clip together.  And for us, it works.  It’s not that we never do anything exciting or spontaneous, but I think he and I are a lot alike in that we’re both creatures of habit and we both like knowing that our significant other can handle just sitting in a room with one another, doing absolutely nothing, and be blissfully happy.

Some couples do date nights.  Some meet each other for lunch through the week.   Mountain Man and I, we spend quality time together whenever we can.  Even if it’s over two Sunday papers, two pairs of scissors, and pile of coupons.


It is pouring the rain here at the cabin right now and for the first time in a long time, I’m glad.  The sound of those big, fat raindrops hitting the roof will hopefully lead to some much needed serious sleep tonight.  I’ve never been one to like the rain… at all.  It usually depresses me to the point of wanting to crawl under the covers and just hide until the sun comes out.

Mountain Man has really tried to get me to see the beauty in the rain and fog, and at times, I’ve been able to.  And tonight just happens to be one of ’em.  My only problem is that it’s still just a little too early to call it a night and I’m hoping it’s still raining like this once we retire for the evening.  And I’m really hoping to sleep good for the first time in a week.

Looking Beyond


I think I might’ve mentioned my love of snow once or twice before and I really wish I wasn’t feeling so gash darn lazy today so I could’ve trekked next door to get a better picture of the mountain range to our east.  But, I’m in my nice, comfy, cozy, pink pj’s, enjoying some post season football, and I just really didn’t feel like it.  So, I took this picture from our deck.  It may not be a clear shot to the high peaks far off in the distance, but I think the varying shades from the branches in the foreground add depth and dimension to the photo.  Plus, y’all get a better understanding of what I see when I look out the windows of the cabin everyday.  Mountain Man and I are truly are blessed to live in such a beautiful part of the world.

A Clean Car Is A Happy Car

Growing up with the parents I had was very interesting.  Especially when it came to riding in their vehicles.  My Mama’s car, no matter how new or old, ugly or pretty was always, always clean.  It didn’t matter that she had three kids, two of which were born five years apart.  Her car was never, ever dirty.  Even on the rare occasion that the outside had a little dirt or salt on it, the inside was as clean as any new car on a dealer’s lot.  Now, Daddy’s cars and trucks, not so much.

Daddy never worried about washing the outside of his vehicles, let alone ever cleaning up the inside.  Not only was there always a thick layer of dust and dirt on the dashboard, the console, the doors and any other plastic surface of the interior, there was always trash.  Everywhere.  Trash in the door pockets, in the cup holders, and in the floorboards.  Needless to say, Mama hated going anywhere in Daddy’s vehicles and she avoided it like the plague.

My sisters and I each have very different personalities and live very different lives, so naturally, our stance on vehicle cleanliness and detailing are just as different.  My baby sister washes her car pretty regularly and she wipes the inside down occasionally to keep the dust at bay.  However, she carries everything but the kitchen sink with her everywhere she goes.  I’m talking clothes, shoes, jackets, pictures, clothes baskets, purses, a book bag, school books and notebooks, tampons, pizza boxes, dishes, and the list goes on and on.  She used to have her retainer in one of the little compartments in one of her cars!  God love her, she’s always prepared and I don’t ever worry about her freezing too death or going hungry if she were to ever break down or be stranded in a storm.  And let me add that her car isn’t nasty, it’s just full… of everything.

My other sister, the middle child, now her vehicles remind me a lot of my Daddy’s.  At least they used to.  I haven’t seen the inside of her car in a really long time so I’m not entirely sure what her car looks like nowadays.  Anyway, her car contained all the things that my baby sister’s car did, with the exception of the retainer, but there was much more trash in hers.  There was always a various assortment of food containers, drive thru wrappers, and cups.  I can remember getting in the back of her car once to go somewhere with her and Mama and the trash in the back floorboards was level with the seats.  I really thought my poor Mama was gonna have a stroke when she saw it.  She used to swear that rats were gonna carry my sister’s car off in the night.

I guess now that I think about it, my sisters are pretty similar in the way they keep their cars.  They both have tendencies like Daddy.  Now me, on the other hand, I took after my Mama.  God help me.

I’ve always tried to keep my car clean.  Both outside and in.  I wore the paint on the hood off the first car I ever bought from washing and waxing it so much.  Who knew two or three times a week was too much?  After that heartbreaking lesson, I decided once a week was enough.

So, once a week for the next fifteen years, give or take a few months, I detailed whatever vehicle I happened to be driving, no matter how new or old, ugly or pretty.  Even with two boys, I always kept my car looking pretty decent.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I had no illusions of keeping my car immaculate like my Mama did.  We ate and drank in my cars.  We got in with muddy shoes and dirty clothes.  We hauled fishing poles and tackle boxes around, as well as stray turtles, iguanas, goldfish, the dog and anything else that just happened to need a ride.  Getting the car dirty never really bothered me because I knew it’d be cleaned back up again by that weekend.

Now, I’ve lived up here at the cabin for almost two years now.  On a steep, windy, gravel covered, always dusty, sometimes muddy, mountain road.  When I first moved up here, I still tried to keep my car washed and vacuumed out at least once a week.  I’d roll thru the car wash and hit the floorboards with the vacuum and I’d swipe the dash with a little Armor All.  It’d look real good till I got back to the house after driving up the mountain.  It didn’t take long for me to give up on keeping the outside looking shiny and new.  But, I still tried to keep the inside as clean as I could.

After being here a while, it didn’t take me long to veer from my once a week schedule.  It didn’t take me long at all to figure out that when you live out in the woods, you’re not gonna be able to keep leaves and dirt outta your car for very long.  So, I started shooting for once a month.  Once a month, I’d vacuum everything and I’d clean the windows and wipe down the dash and all the other plastic surfaces of the interior.  I’d hang a new air freshener and call it good enough.

Well, I’m ashamed to say, that today was the first time I’ve cleaned my car out in probably four or five months.  My Mama would die if she knew this!  There was enough dust on my dash for an artist to do a rendition of a Rembrandt painting.  There were cobwebs in the corners of my doors!  And I found where all the leaves of Fall went.  Right in my floorboard, that’s where!  It was awful.  This just might’ve been the dirtiest my car has ever been.

Unlike my sisters and my Daddy, this bothered me.  Bothered me to the point of making me hate to drive, or ride, in my own car.  I’m thinking this kind of bother can only be experienced by people like myself who absolutely cannot relax in a room with a crooked rug on the floor, or a picture that’s hanging cock-eyed on the wall, or blinds that are messed up.  I’ve told y’all before, there’s something seriously wrong with me.  I just could not stand my car anymore.

So, today, I cleaned the inside of my little bright yellow car.  Not perfectly, but good enough.  And I must say, when I was finished and I climbed inside to move it back to its space in the driveway, I felt a calmness and a peace that only a clean car can bring.

A clean car is a happy car.

I still didn’t wash it, though.  Perhaps next week.


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