I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. It’s my favorite holiday. It’s also nice that my school district gives us the whole week off. I would seem less than thankful, downright ungrateful, if I complained that I’ve come to the end of my vacation. But that’s how it goes. These nice breaks make me realize how much I enjoy NOT working.
For the first twenty years of my adult life I really saw employment merely as a means to get by. My aspirations had little to do with paid work so I often worked part-time. A large part of me still feels that way. I keep asking people if I should retire from teaching now or wait a couple of years hoping someone’s words will blow my mind and help me decide. But I don’t think there is anything anyone can say that I haven’t already considered.
The most compelling facts are purely mathematical. Working two more years will raise my retirement benefit substantially (about 800 additional dollars per month.) The opposing view is that I have a finite number of years left to live. Retiring after this school year will give me two additional years to pursue personal interests.
Since my favorite things in the world are pretty cheap if not free: puttering, reading, writing and exploring (and not necessarily in exotic places), there is a damn good argument for me to retire immediately at the end of this school year and start cashing in my modest pension. On the other hand, I like my job most of the time.
It’s a privilege to even have such a dilemma. I only bring it up because it’s a large slice of the pie chart in my self-absorbed brain. Let me just say I have nothing but gratitude for this life.
On to another piece of my pie:
One of my next blogs—probably the one after this one will deal with the back patio project that I’ve touched on numerous times in my last posts. I can honestly say I have a half day of work left on it which I may complete today if I get this post off and have the energy (currently suffering from some sort of non-Covid lung funk). However, I’m not going to write about the back patio until the cherry is on top of the proverbial whip cream. I suppose with enough time on my hands that might never happen. But there are no actual crowning jewels in this project. I really just wanted to make sure the roof doesn’t fall on anyone’s head.
So that leaves another piece of brain pie—the land in Blaine, TN. I have some new ideas related to the whole building-a-cabin thing. My latest ideas relate to the Sheridan Cabin and using it as a model and, possibly, lumber.
The cabin has been falling down a long time. On a 1991 survey my dad had done, its footprint is inked-in and labeled as “fallen house”. In truth, only the shorter part of its original L-shape is fallen. It may have been a bedroom or kitchen.
I know very little about the place. Over the years, my dad often repeated the rumor that it had been a get-away for some northern gangsters in the 1920s or 30s. I’m not sure if this was before, after or during its occupation by the Sheridans. And I’m not sure who the Sheridans were. It’s the name that has always been associated with it. I’m going to Tennessee after Christmas, so I may spend some time at the Registrar of Deeds and see what history I can dig up.
Anyway, last summer I spent a few hours getting a layer of about four inches of soil off the corrugated roof of the fallen portion and salvaging some of the panels that weren’t rusted through. I also started dreaming about salvaging some of the timbers and beams from this structure and using them to build my little dream cabin over on the acute triangle in the spot I’ve established as the best place.
I say little, but if I were to use the measurements for the unfallen part of the Sheridan cabin it would be bigger than my original aspirations. It is 22 by 16 feet. Using this model, the 13′ 4″ peaked roof would give room for a 6’ 1” high loft bedroom at one end with a 7 foot ceiling under it and an open frame for the rest of the cabin.
I don’t have a lot of experience dealing with old wood, but I used some repurposed lumber for most of the studs on my 2020, Covid-summer, shed project. That old lumber was far newer than the Sheridan cabin and it required drilling holes to get nails in.
There is also the problem of how to get the roof down? I suppose I could harness myself to the massive Tulip Poplar that sits on one side and climb atop the cabin to disassemble. It would be better if I was harnessed to two trees opposite each other. If I lost my footing harnessed to just one, I’d likely scrape myself across the remaining structure and bash into the side of the tree.
Why do I want to use material from this old cabin anyway? I guess I just like the idea of reusing things. Ultimately it will be a lot more work than just buying the lumber, but possibly less work than felling and milling the trees I would need.
It goes without saying that there are many things I need to research before attempting this project—first among them, to see if it is even viable. There are people that know a lot more than me and we fortunately live in an age where lots of opinions can be found on the internet. If you read this and have any ideas let me know!
As a final, personal note, Jillian and I are uncoupling though we plan on living together as an intentional community of two humans, two cats and a dog. (I think there is a song in there somewhere.) This has been in the works for a while and we have been fortunate to see a therapist on a regular basis to help us with the transition. We care about each other and want to remain family without the traditional expectations of what having a partner means.
Spotty West Goes East 