The Story of my Off-Grid Writing Cabin
Before my grandpa got too sick, he purchased a small patch of land from a friend. It is right in the middle of farm country, but had been untouched (apart from cows) for many years. The property was once site of a (now gone) mining town, it is right alongside train tracks, and the only way to it is by a dirt road that sometimes floods, so it is not particularly valuable land. Perhaps that was why the friend who inherited it had no interest in it.
This lack of interest greatly benefited the property, by letting the forest (and ecosystem) spread and thrive.
It has moose, porcupines, cougars, and more, so going there often feels like entering the wilds, despite the fact that a short walk will lead you to a neighbors farmland.
The pre-mentioned town has long since disappeared, but one of its inhabitants (who was a young boy at the time, and is now elderly) sometimes comes to wander the land and remember how it was. It turns out the spot I chose for my cabin was right near where the town was, but there is little physical evidence of how it was when he was a boy. I have found the wheel impressions of an old path through the forest, as well as the occasional glass bottle, ceramics, or other small trinkets.
While scaling the cliffside, I did once find something I believe is related to the mine(perhaps an air vent?) but I have yet to find more.
My grandpa was determined to have land to pass down to his two kids, so he did what he could to clear a small space in overgrown brush in an open patch of the forest to give his kids a place to start building on.
He also gave me permission to start building my very tiny 8×12 cabin, and dropped by every now and then to give suggestions on the build.
I am pretty proud to say that he quite liked my idea with the jacks and the cinder blocks to lift it from the ground. I picked this setup that way if the earth shifts, I can re-level the shed. Also, if it is ever decided that the land should be sold, it would technically be possible for me to lift and load it onto a flat-bed(though where I would bring it is a mystery hahaha).
For my cabin, despite how small it is, construction is a slow process. I am low income, so building it has been a mix of waiting for enough money, and hunting at the salvage center at my local dump. For example, my sink and cabinets cost me $5. Of course, there were some repairs to do on them, but nothing drastic.
With the help of a solar panel and a 12 volt battery, I have enough power for my tiny fridge, lights, and laptop, and I have yet to run out of power.
I do have to bring water in, but I set up my sink so that it drains into a bucket that — thanks to biodegradable soap — I can dump outside later.
There are still some small things to be done as I hunt down prices I can afford — such as for window trim, curtains that actually block light, and some sort of heat source — but it is usable as it is.
Unfortunately, because of my slow progress, my grandpa never got to see my cabin as close to finished as it is now. He passed away a few years ago. I would like to think my grandpa would like how my writing cabin turned out.
I do not know what the future of the land will look like, but for now, my grandpa provided me with a quiet escape that has been tremendously helpful with my mental health.
If you follow my website or other social media, you might have noticed I haven't been active, and the reason for it is that a recent blip of depression has made it hard for me to do anything. I apologize for dropping off the map, especially if there are any comments I have forgotten to reply to.
I am currently working on improving my mental health in any way I can, and the land has played a part in it. When I visit the land, there is little to no cell-service, so the disconnect and surrounding nature creates a barrier to me and my stresses, and I do feel much better. Thanks, grandpa!
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Good morning from my writing shed! Here in south Florida, when it actually dips below 80 degrees for a hot minute, we get our butts outside, mosquitoes be damned. So, while the shed is rather Spartan now, here we are hanging inside it. In our family, we rejected the notion of a #mancave or a #sheshed. Instead, in the spirit of inclusion, we’ve dubbed ours a “We Shed.” I’ll keep you posted on the progress. Do you have a sacred space you go to collect your thoughts, work, pray or just be alone? I’d love to see it. . . . . . #writingshed #writingspace #fridayvibes #floridalife #peacefulplace https://www.instagram.com/p/CHP8REkgX9q/?igshid=1ik2jx2c75v2k
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Holiday memory sparked by this mornings post and artwork from @whynotassociates This is Dylan Thomas’ ‘writing shed’ in Laugharne, the inspiration for the town in Under Milk Wood. Love the photos on the walls, esp. the one of DH Lawrence. #holidaymemory #Laugharne #dylanthomas #dhlawrence #undermilkwood #boathouse #writingshed (at Laugharne Township, Carmarthenshire) https://www.instagram.com/p/CDGgOReB3Dn/?igshid=1l7c1uhnwi5gp
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George Bernard Shaw's writing shed, which was on a lazy susan kind of thing so he could spin it around to get all the sunlight. and yes I think that's a ceramic monkey. _____ #bibliophilebook #georgebernardshaw #writingshed
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Thinking about Dylan Thomas' writing shed tonight. Thanks @desiree_film for A Child's Christmas in Wales, apparently it's not boring after all. ❤#dylanthomas #writingshed
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