Imagine you’re eleventy months pregnant when planting the year’s garden. If you can’t imagine yourself at such an unimaginable gestational length of time, I’ll disclose that gardening in such a condition entails rolling between rows on your own girth, or a general butt-scooting amid the feeling that one’s entire …
It’s been a while. Â We’ve been a little busy… Project Cabin is not far from finished, but we had quickly outgrown the “bed” in the Cramper, a bed which earns its quotational glyphs by being, fundamentally, a thirty-year-old piece of foam. Like just about everything in the Cramper, it was …
The expansions of living space and living occupants of Cooter Hollow have thwarted any attempts at regular updates, as waddling and face-stuffing, as it happens, takes many precious hours of the ticking stuff. The winter in these parts has been a strange one, leaving us without our expected several feet …
Many ladies finding themselves with occupied uteruses undergo a lengthy period known as “nesting.” As far as I can tell, for most, this involves scrubbing walls with toothbrushes, ceaseless knitting, and looking dreamily at onesies on the internet. For me, it means hanging insulation and hoisting sheets of OSB into …
The other night I was shaken awake a few hours early to be informed that my Native was heading to the bathroom. Now, this is not an issue of conjoined-at-hip extreme co-dependency, but an act of courtesy we always extend the other before leaving camp, so that the remaining mate …
So I rolled in to my Great Lower Garden on Sunday evening after a week out-of-town on a means-making mission, and pulled up to check on the state of things– the state of tomatoes and peas, I’d thought. Something to note about the Great Lower Garden; mine, while the most …
Given that we’re in the middle of the woods, and that I’ve already spoken at some length about critters noodling around in these woods, if I were to tell you that bipeds are not the only residents here, you’d roll your eyes and go read a celebrity twitter feed or …
We had the great misfortune of leaving Cooter Hollow for what was to be a brief respite recently. This turned into a trip that ended with re-entry via sledgehammer and the consequential installation of a shiny new door. Because when one whines about not having nice things, and pines for …
We started, as most people stupid enough to move onto undeveloped land start, by pitching a two-person tent. Simple enough: it kept us from total waterlog, gave us room enough to breathe (only if we didn’t take DEEP breaths, though) and kept the bugs out (MOSTLY). But, a little-known secret: …
