Success and Happiness

It's kind of funny. It is to us anyway. One or the other of us is regularly saying to the other of us … We're really doing this aren't we?

Yes we are!

And, from the looks of it, one more good day of working on the interior and The Cabin On Huckleberry Hill will be ready for an overnight stay! It'll not be completely finished but the necessary amenities will be in place. Nor will we be moved in. That's still part of the process. But, rather than doing up and backs that eat up hours and gasoline, we'll have the option to just lay up at the end of the day then spend the next morning or day piddling at this and that or whatever.

Shoot. We might just sit there and listen to the birds and squirrels and the subdued sound of the trains rumbling on the track and have conversations.

1942.

That is when WE TOOK TO THE WOODS was first copyrighted.

It's one of those true stories … chronicling an adventure … written from a woman's perspective … something of a nature study … the story of a dream that awakens and becomes real life … set in the Maine woods. It's also one of the books that made the cut in our downsizing efforts as the bones of our own dream take on sinew and muscle.

“We get our water from the river and from a spring up back in the woods. We do our bathing in wash-tubs in front of the kitchen stove, and for other uses of the bathroom, we resort to the out-houses. This is no great hardship in the summer, but in winter, with the snow knee deep, the wind howling like a maniac up the river, and the thermometer crawling down to ten below zero, it is a supreme test of fortitude to leave the warmth of the fire and go plunging out into the cold, no matter how great the necessity. We like to think, however, that it builds character.” Louise Dickinson Rich

Crude?

Maybe according to modern standards.

We forget that people lived … and lived well … for centuries without the conveniences prescribed by standards that insist that bigger is better and more is best.

Departing from a bigger and more mentality defies all the cultural norms dictated by modern society … norms that supposedly indicate success and promise happiness. Departing from these norms is a sure way to get the boot from modern clubs and social circles. That's been our lived experience with departing from the norms. People, for some reason or another, get the impression that the departure is some kind of personal rejection of their way of life.

Well? Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. Maybe it's bigger than that. Maybe it's more of a rejection of the system and the thriving mania that it propagates.

These woods aren't the Maine woods.

We don't have to worry about ten below zero here in this part of the world. Not in these Lower Alabama woods. Freezing to death … or getting frost bite on your buttocks from a freezing outhouse seat … are extremely remote possibilities.

We do, having sorted through the pile of propaganda suggesting success and promising happiness, have a few standards where modern conveniences are concerned. Cooling the air during the summer months is one of them. Hot and cold running water is another of them. An indoor apparatus that tends to human necessity is on our list of conveniences. Ordinary everyday stuff that makes daily life in a thoroughly modern world a lot easier. We have these.

Success and happiness are individual matters and can only be determined by the real needs of each individual person. The onus is on the individual to sort through all the chaff ... all the impressed standards set by society and its popular culture ... figure out what it is that success is for them … what it is that honestly and truly makes them happy in life … then damn the torpedoes and go for it.

I was out the door early this morning headed to the cabin. Detour on the way. I had to go by Lowe's for some paneling and a roll of insulation. Half of the paneling made its way from the saw horses to the walls. Tomorrow is another day.