Winter arrived early. I usually greet the first snowfall with delight, no matter when it comes–but this year, not so much. When you’re building a house and therefore don’t have one yet, winter makes things more difficult. Prettier, but also more difficult. However, here it is. So I cleaned out the trailer, climbed a ladder to sweep snow off the awning before rolling it in, and moved myself and the pets to Jeff’s off-the-grid tiny cabin in the woods. It’s just a mile away but feels farther as I move food and pots and clothes and cat crate. I’ll still use the trailer for daytime use and occasional cooking, but Jeff has winterized it (drained the water and replaced it with antifreeze) so I carry water from the well and wash dishes in the bay. Sand is a great cleaning agent–but when the bay freezes, that will be the end of that.
I tell myself I’m resilient and productive. So I’ll continue to be both! But it is harder. Shoveling snow and washing dishes in the bay is the easier part. My paperwork — which tracks the building process, including inspections and expenses — is a mess in the tiny 2nd trailer that I use as an office. (Jeff’s cabin has no electricity, WiFi, or cell signal.) And we are both fighting bad colds. But! We are close to ready for the next round of inspections! Jeff is out there right now, in 32 degrees, banging lighting boxes into the porch ceiling. If he can do it, so can I. This is the time to buck up…for awhile longer, anyway. Transition photos and captions follow.
We woke this morning, at Jeff’s tiny cabin in the woods, to this….
…and I went out to find Roscoe, who moved up here yesterday. There he is, tucked up to his favorite hemlock. It’s in his genes! Working huskies make their beds in the snow this way. Roscoe has a dog house but prefers this!
Yup, transition time…for animals, humans and plants…
My first glance at the new house in snow, from the west, looking at the front porch.
Here’s the view from the east (waterfront) side. The wood piles will go down this winter as we fuel up the woodstove…
…. which is inside the otherwise-empty new house. We don’t have a heating source yet, so this is necessary to keep inside work going. Adding wood to the stove was the last thing I did before heading up into the woods last night and the first thing I did after coming back down to the waterfront this morning.
Isn’t it interesting how waterfront views change with the weather? My cousin made this tree of driftwood for me, and I wrote the Finnish translation of “Many Moons” on it.
The dock, which gets so much use in summer, looks forlorn in winter. I measured 4″ and the snow was still falling. Most personal docks here are moved to land for the winter, and so this one will be. That will be easier if it’s not covered in snow. So I swept it. (Easiest snow-removal ever! Just shove it over the side into the water.)
The sun came out in mid-afternoon, reminding me that I need to put the kayaks away.
Four deer ambled into Camp Many Moons. In the midst of transition kerfuffle, they made me smile. Our neighbors, who feed them, are gone for awhile so we’re putting out corn for “their pets.” They also eat things I don’t want them to eat, like my new plants, but they’re still cute….
We’ve been living in this trailer for nearly six months. Now, we’ll use it just to check email.
I’ll make coffee in the trailer, too, using water from our well pump. I suppose I’ll have to shovel a path to it soon!
My “office view,” from this tiny trailer which sits about 100 feet from the big one. It’s only usable right now because of the little woodstove inside. It’s a good thing we have so many wood piles!
For Many Moons 
I love all your photos and information. I feel almost like I am there with you. I know you can do it!
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