Jenn and I built a cabin in a remote community several years ago. We had plans for what trees we wanted to take down to improve the view from the cabin, a rainwater collection system we would set up, long term stuff like that.
Then we decided we want to build a real house there and move to that property full time sooner than later. We had to re-route the driveway because the original driveway sucked and was too steep and twisty to get any work trucks up. That means the way we oriented the entrance to the cabin is now obsolete and kind of dumb because it’s on the opposite side that you drive up to it from.
And the primary reason we bought the property was to have a vacation place, somewhere we could go disconnect from busy living and slow down for a while. Now we will still have an off-grid cabin on the property but it obviously won’t be the same — when you have a heated house with power and running water and a hot tub and all the creature comforts of home, an off-grid cabin 200 ft away does not hold the same allure.
So while I’m happy about the overall direction we’re going, I was marveling the other day at how hard you can work towards something, only to change directions quite suddenly or much sooner than originally anticipated, and how that change in direction can make all the work you’ve done for the previous direction kind of feel like a waste of time. Oh well, I feel like that’s life. You can make all the plans you want but plans change. And I feel like sticking rigidly to plans that are no longer your priority is dumb, while staying elastic and open to changes in plans is something that I admire and always strive to improve at.
This is all to say, I’m slightly sad and miffed at our change of plans, but I realize those are minor things and I’m excited about the bigger picture.
crimson highway 