Learning to Share

About a month ago, I was surprised to find a “for sale” sign on the Bill Waite cabin, which practically sits in my front yard (right). The owner told me a year ago he planned to sell it, so I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I had lulled myself into a belief that maybe he had changed his mind or forgotten.

 

I’ve spent more than two years enjoying the view of the cabin, named for its original owner, while sitting at my laptop. I’ve photographed it in every season, so it’s become an icon, as much a part of my landscape as Mount Meeker or the three large ponderosas that anchor my front yard. The cabin has framed snowstorms, deep red sunsets, and the last light of day bathing the front of the house.

 

Since I’ve owned my place, the Bill Waite cabin has been empty, so it seems more than anything a

rustic fixture in my landscape: with its peeled log exterior, its metal roof and stovepipe chimney, its red-painted door. I even love the “decorations” on the front of the cabin:  a waffle iron hanging from antlers above the door(left), an old thermometer and bed pan.  I love the two plain wooden chairs, slightly askew, which have been there so long they’ve sunk into the ground. On the ponderosa tree in front hangs a cowboy boot turned into a bird house (below). The small cabin (432 square feet) forms a perfect rectangle that sits on a small rise, as if set up to be properly displayed as a rustic piece of art.  

 

When I realized that my view was threatened, my first impulse was to think about using my retirement money to buy the property. That way I wouldn’t have to contend with someone who might not share my feelings about this small slice of the world, might try to cut the tall grasses down, be noisy, own an ATV, or have TV or loud music going. The cabin had once been rented to a family, and I thought about children running around, making a lot of noise that would disturb my tranquility.  

 

But buying the property would mean taking money from my retirement savings, and because the property has no septic system, the county would likely require one, which would be a huge cost.

 

And  then there was another part of me, maybe the side that I’ve nurtured the two years I’ve had this place, that had an inkling that life was full of new experiences and that trying to keep everything the same was futile and useless.  Maybe I could be open to whatever might happen: a party of hunters having wild parties next door? I think I could handle it if it wasn’t every night. A family with kids playing in my front yard? They probably enjoy the ground squirrels as much as I do. A recluse who stuck his head out the door to check the weather? Even better. A fellow naturalist and book reader? Best of all.

 

I’ll  just wait and see.

Comments

[shoney]

I love the way you explore this topic. The Bill Waite cabin really does seem like part of your property. It has stood empty for so long it feels like it belongs to the landscape.

[Mark Wales]

Exciting times! Look forward to seeing what happens next! If I didn't live in Sweden, I'd love to buy the place! haha. Fingers crossed it's a book reading naturalist!

[Jennifer Woodhull]

Keep us posted, will you? Now that I have the Big Picture of your cabin and its surrounds, I feel as though I have a personal investment in who moves in next door to you.

[sally]

That is a worry I would surely have "Who?"!! How much does it cost?? If it isn't too much, maybe?? No septic...that might deter people...I pray that you end up with a very nice and quiet person!! Whatever the case it is all a learning expeience. GOOD LUCK!!

[Kathy Kaiser]

Sally, they are asking $60,000, although I suspect they may have to reduce the price, considering it has no septic system or well.

[Melanie Mulhall]

Kathy,

It is so tempting to want to buy wonderful places to protect them, isn't it? I'm reminded of being in Australia many years ago, on the island of Tasmania. I was in Australia on business, but took a week off (after two weeks of business) and drove the island of Tasmania. My husband and I stayed at one place that happened to be right next to a fairy penguin habitat. We were able to take a tour at night to see them come out of the water and return to their nests. The tour guide was a sanctioned by the government. This was serious stuff. The fairy penguins were threatened by humans and ferral cats. At one point, there were fairy penguins right at our feet--and I thought to myself that my being there might not be such a good thing, even if it was under the auspices of a federally sanctioned program. I fantasized buying the entire area and keeping us humans off it completely so the fairy penguins could live in peace.

The cabin so close to yours seems absolutely charming. You are probably doing more for its sale in this blog piece than any real estate person could.

I wish you peace and wonderful neighbors!

Melanie Mulhall

[Kathy Kaiser]

Melanie, I like your fantasy about protecting the fairy penguins. Sometimes, it's best to keep humans out of the picture.

[internet television]

He querido publicar algo como esto en mi sitio web y esto me dio una idea. Saludos.

[diverticulosis]

cabinjournal.typepad.com is super!! Love to come back here