I realized, shortly after the actual yurt was raised, that the project had become that of building a house. Not as expansive as the other houses I’ve been involved with building or remodeling over the years, but with all of the same expenses and steps required. My contributions to the project have been rather meager in some ways: I provide the money and whatever clean-up I can get to before someone else does it, and try to be patient. Mostly I admire and imagine and try to envision where I might fit that very large and dear armoire or my dresser (currently I believe it will end up in the bathroom) or if my matching couches have a prayer of fitting in the living room space (not much of one I’m afraid). I find I have no idea what I actually packed of my household goods since I was not sure where I would end up when I did the packing. Perhaps I will be pleasantly surprised when I manage to retrieve the boxes and bins and furniture from the storage unit where I stuffed it last summer. Or I may find myself horrified by the volume of things I decided to keep.
Things. I realize I have too many of them. And yet I have far fewer than I did a year ago. We all have so many more things than we need…but then it rarely is about need is it? Having lived in one room within my daughter’s house for most of a year, I know how little it takes to exist. Who’s looking to “exist” though? The hope of this bold and somewhat reckless move to yet another mountain property in the Ben Lomond hills is to live a life worth living surrounded by people and things I love. So, goal in mind, I watch the property change from spring to summer and my mind wanders to dining alfresco, admiring the climbing roses.