Cabin Life

Even laundry, cooking and cleaning feels like a vacation in the mountains

By Robin Conte

I don’t usually do nothing. I’m not a do-nothing person.

But here, in the mountains in our house built of logs, I feel like I have not only permission but almost an obligation to do nothing.

If it’s pouring outside, I can spend the day listening to the rain on our metal roof while lying on the couch with a good book.

If it’s warm outside, I can choose the hammock.

In the morning, I sit on the deck perched on a tall chair with a cup of coffee, watching as the mist rises like steam over the river below and lifts to reveal layers of mountains disappearing into the horizon.

I sit again at night in an Amish rocker as the air cools, and I listen to the call of the whippoorwill.

I plant flowers. I sweep floors. I wash clothes. I make meals. I always plan on writing,