A. and I talk all the time about how my dream house is in Maine. It sits on a cliff overlooking the ocean with bay windows and high ceilings so light can fill the rooms. There are dense woods in the backyard. The house has a furnished attic with a simple desk and a windowsill bench with lots of pillows — private, and a perfect place to write. It truly is a dream — I’ve never been to Maine. I concocted the house while reading some kids’ novel. I have no idea which one, but it doesn’t matter.
This weekend, A. and I met up with friends in Spruce Knob, West Virginia, for a climbing trip. Our friends found a two-bedroom cabin for seven us (plus two babies). And when A. and I arrived on Friday evening, the place took my breath away. It was nestled in the woods with high ceilings, wood beams and a bay window overlooking a deck and a fire pit.
S. and J. were sitting in the dimly-lit dining room, quietly putting together a 1,000-piece puzzle — something else I used to love to do as a kid. After I put C. down for the night, A. and I jumped in and the four of us drank red wine, ate my homemade chocolate-chip oatmeal cookies and worked different sections of the puzzle.
We finished it the next morning (and then I started on another). Other friends arrived, and some went climbing. I met them at the crag later in the afternoon with C., and got one climb in.
That evening, we sat around a fire roasting marshmallows while J. played Ryan Adams and the Beatles on the guitar. And I felt relaxed and happy.
Maybe someday A. and I will be able to build a house somewhere in the woods. I doubt will have enough money, but a girl can dream.