How it all began.
I find myself sitting at the kitchen table of a 120 square foot cabin which has been reincarnated from an old goat barn. There is snow falling outside…yes snow is still falling on the 18th of March.
I’ve become a morning person already. Normally these days I’d be going to sleep soon but tonight Katherine and I were asked to check up on the pregnant goats at 10 because Nova, Emily or Ramona might just be having their kids. Luckily we didn’t have to pick up the 2am shift. So I sit here and finally have a moment to try to piece together exactly how I got here, to this very tiny cabin set on a 9th generation farmer’s land on the easternmost tip of Maine.
Sometime last year I realized that I could be living a lot differently than I was. I suppose I found myself comfortable in my surroundings; going to work in a restaurant that mostly paid the bills, spending off time trying to explore Oregon with my girlfriend, cooking really good food from farmer’s markets, gardening a bit in my backyard. But more often than not I was exhausted from working late nights. I was too tired to let my brain remember that things could be different. I wasn’t happy with my routine or outlook. And at some point I’m pretty sure Katherine and I looked each other in the eye and realized that we were both ready to have an adventure and move on from the routines and habits we had found ourselves in. We wanted something drastic, something jarring to help us find our next steps.
I could go on about what wasn’t working in our Portland, Oregon lives but what it really came down to was being ready for a change. So we quit our jobs, rented out my house, quit gym memberships, gave up decent grocery stores and coffee shops. We let go of some really nice comforts and said goodbye to some amazing friends. Drastic times.
As we finished cleaning and packing my house we were confronted with many typical moving out challenges; furniture had to be sold on Craig’s List, a winter yard sale had to happen, precious cargo was really heavy. Best of all was a squirrel who decided to call my basement his new home. A live trap and a pep talk from Katherine’s brother later, the squirrel was set free and we felt one step closer to the daunting task of moving out of a home I’d lived in for 8 years.
After the two of us finally conquered the physical challenges, it was time to confront what we’d done. We packed up my car with enough belongings to drive from Portland Oregon to Downeast Maine and live in a tiny, tiny cabin. We drove across country in the middle of winter, the long way.