It’s move-in week at my NY place. It sits empty for eight months of the year, including a sometimes hard winter. Consequently it can be interesting to open up the windows, turn on the lights, and figure out what critters moved into the cabin in my absence. It’s not actually a cabin. It’s a 40’ fifth-wheel trailer around which we’ve built a roof and porch. Still, the vernacular for summer places leans toward cabin, and that is the terminology I’ve found easiest when dealing with DSL providers, etc.
I’m about 40 miles north of Manhattan, on the west side of the Hudson River. I can be in The City in an hour or less on the train, yet the temperatures here stay much cooler than in any of the five boroughs. In fact, this area is probably the closest edge of the summer escape communities that allowed New Yorkers to maintain their sanity in the time before air conditioning. I love it here. I’ve spent 21 (or is it 22?) summers here, and cannot imagine anything better. I have established relationships with friends and neighbors, and I try not to gloat to my Texan friends if they make the mistake of asking about the weather.
So I’m cleaning (and avoiding cleaning by typing), and tracking down a stray electrical repair or two before I can really feel that I’ve settled in. A curly willow tree fell onto the back corner of the roof … that will have to be dealt with. I haven’t even turned on the water yet to see what plumbing repairs I’ll have to make. One step at a time, the nesting continues.
It may seem an odd thing to be enjoying, but this time of unfolding my home, and the emotional fluffing of pillows, is really a great part of what I enjoy about the life I’ve crafted for myself. I have four places I call home. I do the nesting thing four times per year, often with great helpers, but sometimes alone. This time I’ve got some great helpers, who are also part of our kitchen crew (which means they know what clean is … this is always a bonus). Later today I’ll unload my car into the clean space and discover which little black dress is stored in this closet, familiarizing myself with another wardrobe.