"Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." Paul to the persecuted at Philippi (2:5-11)

14 January 2012

Bamboo cottage by the lake...

One thing on which my mother-in-law and I agreed, an area in which we uniquely understood one another, was in the value of living in a yurt. Or a tumbleweed tiny house. Or in the case of my current obscession, a little bamboo cottage by a lake.

My husband, techno king, thinks this is silliness. Especially since my little bambooo cottage would have solar power and a single soapstone stove for its main source of heat. And a little alcove for a kayak. But silly or not, he says he doesn't mind as long as he has a decent internet connection.

She liked funny little houses. I'm fond of simple living that doesn't overwhelm the natural vista, be it trees or water or mountains. We shared a fondness for misty mountains. Gentle architecture with a human touch. Her father was an architect, mine an engineer.

I would build it with transom windows to let the heat out in the summer, or if the soapstone stove became too much in the mild southern lakeside winters. And I would have a little room for the rabbits to hop and eat their hay, indoors away from predators but where they could scatter their hay and nobody would mind.

And a little sunroom for my spinning wheel.
And a little asian style table where you sit on the floor.
And interesting art on the walls.
And a lot of windows for looking out.
And a single (organic) fruit tree in the yard, a little herb garden, and a farm market down the road that I can walk to.

Where I would wade in the lake and maybe learn to paint. Except that I am terrible at art. Except that I can sort of paint silk scarves. And spin yarn. Except I get bored at spinning and painting after a while.

Except that I don't like fish. I spent the last few years learning to like salmon, and now I really do. So maybe for the new year I will learn to like another kind of fish, and I can tell myself that learning to like fish is one more step toward living by the lake in a sustainable little house with a sweeping vista.

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