A few Christmases ago you sent me a pair of gloves with a note that said, “let's build a cabin." I haven’t forgotten about that… That sentiment resonates so deeply with me.
My dad was just under 30 when he started building my family home from scratch. They bought plans from the hardware store, one of the most generic things you can possibly do. (I bet there were hundreds of thousands of homes built directly on the same model. In fact, my cousin’s house on our very road is the same exact house.)
Growing up, I would rework the plans in my head to allow for more space or a bigger living room space and for sure, a bigger kitchen. I would replace my mom’s furniture for my own (meaning some that I saw in a magazine). It wasn’t that I didn’t like where I lived, or hated my parents' taste, it was just that I wanted to make it my own. Even though the house on paper was a generic blueprint, my dad chose to customize it the way he wanted and saw things at the time. He and I have a very, very different perspective on design, but I appreciate the fact that every board was cut by either one of his brothers and a few select friends or himself. They built that place from the ground up: custom cabinets that my dad made, wood paneling everywhere (this would be a design point that I don’t agree with), and either linoleum floors or carpet in each room. (Do I even need to say that these are two other points that I don’t agree with?)
Regardless of my own ideas about what a home looks like, I say, "let's build a cabin ... someday" ... but in the meantime, let's build our TMS cabin!
Bruised Fingers and Band-Aids,
(PS. If you're curious about my taste in design, check out my project: I'm Travel Size.)