This wasn’t supposed to be the plan.

It was the summer of 2020. We were living quite comfortably in our 5 bedroom farmhouse we’d spent the last 8 years restoring “soup to nuts”, as they say. Ams & Zin, our oldest kids, had gone off to college, only coming home to visit on holidays and occasional weekends. Ethan was 13, and had the whole 3rd floor to himself. But a big house with a big yard is a very needy thing, especially when the nest is emptying out. 

And so Kevin & I hatched a long-term, 5 year plan: We would build a small green cabin on our 14 + 1 acre organic farm a mile down the road. We studied plans, we had great ideas. Passive solar! Geothermal! ALL the things our hippy hearts desired. And we could take our sweet time building it, paying for each section as we could afford it, avoiding a second mortgage or the need to sell our current house until the cabin was complete.

But then by early 2021, the real estate market jumped sky high, and we knew it would be very super smart of us to take advantage and sell the house right now. And so we did.

In between showings and cleaning and mowing and purging and working (LOTS of working - we’re part owners of a popular bar & restaurant), we settled on the perfect passive solar home kit, and bought and restored a 5th wheel to live in on the farm while we built the cabin, with a backup plan to stay with our dear gracious friends in town depending on how long the building process took. 

At one point in between home plans and waiting to hear back from the solar kit company, Kevin casually mentioned “we could buy the building on the corner next to the bar. I like that building.” I don’t remember what my response was, probably laughing or “sure”. I couldn’t even quite remember what the building looked like; I just remembered always seeing pigeons up in the crumbling roof rafters when I parked in front of it. Also, it wasn’t even for sale. 

But Kevin has an eye for new opportunities. He’s known for tossing around big new ideas and businesses. I’m generally known to go along with those plans as long as they make him happy, just as he is always willing to go along with my hair-brained schemes, as long as they make me happy. This flexibility and support is the foundation our 23 year relationship was built on; we love and trust each other enough to take risks and live out our dreams.

By the end of July, the house was sold (to the sweetest, nicest family! What a great feeling to know the house was going to someone who loved it. Hooray!) and we moved into the camper full-time. We went from 2300 square feet to 260 square feet. The solar kit house company ghosted us, and we were back to square one with the building plan, but all was still good.

One day in early August, Kevin announced that he had gotten a tour of the building next to the bar. When I asked him what it was like, he said, “It’s full of dead birds and motorcycles. But it’s HUGE! And so cool!”

I know I laughed this time. But it still wasn’t really for sale, and I wasn’t ready to give up hope on the cabin. 

By the end of August, we still hadn’t gotten anywhere with new cabin plans, and he arranged a tour of the building for both of us. And the owner was willing to sell it to us! The motorcycles were gone, but so were portions of the roof, porches, plaster, and floor. Heh. But Kevin was right. It was so cool! Original unpainted woodwork graced the first floor parlors. Etched glass double doors greeted us in the entryway. The place had potential! And it was also HUGE. Like 7000 square feet huge!

I’ll admit, after the initial flurry of excitement over things like built-in shutters and pocket doors faded, I was scared. Weren’t we trying to downsize? AND it would take all our money! Plus we’d need a giant loan on top of that. Also, let’s be honest, this puppy would take over our lives.  This was TOO crazy, right?

Back home, the novelty of camper life with a broken AC and a port-o-john was wearing off. We could stick it out, sure, but very soon, we were going to have to come up with a deadline; anything is tolerable when you know when it’s going to end.

I put one last ditch attempt into getting a plan together for a farm cabin. The fastest, simplest modular home kit went from a 6 week turnaround a few years back to a 16-18 month turnaround time and 3x the cost in the pandemic! So I tucked the cabin dream in safe and sound for a long rest, pulled up my big girl panties, and told Kevin I was in. 

So now here we are, mid-October, 77 days into camper life, days away from closing on the building next to the bar, which I’ve affectionately named Pigeon Manor. We have a goal of moving in before the first frost. Yes, we failed at the downsizing, but all those extra square feet are full of potential! And pigeons.