The old van has been parked up in our woods for years.
This spring, when I was feeling hemmed in by too many people, too many events, and no time to write, Mom came up with the brainy idea of making me a writing cabin.
She and Dad tore out the seats and the carpet, laid down linoleum, and hauled in a desk and a file cabinet.
I found the desk chair set out for the taking in somebody’s front yard.
Mom is brilliant. (And she wonders where we children get our imaginations.)
She also just happened to have an old wicker table and chair, three can of red spray paint, and a pretty white board. Voila!
The coasters are also from Mom: an early birthday gift.
I contributed the coffee cups.
Chad thought of a name for my cabin, and Elizabeth painted the sign.
She also helped me decorate and took photos.
There is a peculiar smell about the old van: maybe the rust, or the rotting leaves in the grill, or the abandoned mice nests in the walls. I spent an afternoon scrubbing everything, and that helped. The candles, a red one on each wheel well, should help too.
When I write, I open up all the windows and doors. It is cool and breezy in the woods. I have gooseberries and raspberries outside my back door.
I recently signed this:
a contract with Herald Press for a book to add to their series Plainspoken. The book, so far entitled Mennonite Millennial, will be about my life and community here in rural Rusk County.
I know that I will be using my cabin often, as a quiet work space away from wi-fi and telephones.
I hope you enjoyed this glimpse of my cabin; guess I’d better get writing!
Photos taken by Elizabeth Miller