Connections

     It's done. Good Gods, it's finally ours! After months of paperwork and anxiety, last Friday was our closing. Frank and I packed up two carloads of stuff, along with Emily, my mom and Jambeau, and we all went adventuring to Maine. We headed out at 6:30am and pulled into the bank parking lot around 11:30am. We were early, but it gave us a chance to go walk around the local department store, Reny's and then get back to the bank for our appointment. By 1:30, we were walking out of the bank with the key in my hand and smiles on our faces. 

     Frank had gotten word from someone he knew that two of his other friends that live close by our cabin had tried to get up our road, but it was all muddy and they couldn't do it. When he told me that on Thursday night, I was friggin crushed. I mean, what the hell else could go wrong? Getting to the bank for the signing was never a worry but we wanted to spend the weekend at our new place. That was the whole point of doing it all in person! Frank called the people who had actually tried the road and they said it wasn't muddy, however, there was a dusting of snow and their 4x4 truck couldn't get up one of the hills. I was still stressed out. If their 4x4 couldn't make it, how was my mom's Hyundai supposed to? All we could do was hope. 

     As we left the bank that next day and headed to the cabin, Frank took the lead. We got to our road and, it was indeed dusted with snow. My heart sank, my chest tightened, and my hands gripped the wheel a little tighter. The road to our cabin is hard packed dirt and rocks, about 2 miles long. It's a trek on a dry day, I had no idea how this was going to go. Big divots, snow, icy mud holes, all of it was on that road. And none of it mattered. Both of our vehicles made it down the road with absolutely no issues. I give my mom's putt-putt credit. It did a great job for a granny mobile. 

     The feeling of pulling into that yard, knowing that quirky green cabin belonged to us was incredible! We weren't just looking this time. We were staying. We were putting our energy into it and beginning to make it ours. 

     When we walked in, there was a surprise left for us by the previous owner. She had put some linen on the table and a place setting and a handwritten note. She also drew a map of the property to show us where certain things were. The letter was the nicest thing, I swear. She gave us the whole back story of the how she built the cabin, and I can tell you that both the letter and map are going to be framed and hung in the cabin. They're part of its history and belong with it. 

     I'm not gonna lie, it was a chaotic first night. Between everyone being excited and having a lot of stuff in a small space and trying to get the fire going to warm the place up, it was crazy. We managed to figure out what the hell we should be doing and by 7:30 we were all exhausted and in bed. I won't go into a detailed account right now; I'll save that for another post. Sufficed to say, we learned a lot those first two nights. Sunday morning came, we loaded up our stuff and some trash that we were taking out and we headed off for home. None of us wanted to leave.

     Tonight, as I was doing some laundry and washing up some of the blankets that were left in the cabin, I thought that one of the quilts looked handmade. As I was pulling it out of the dryer, I saw some writing on the corner of the quilt. It was a wedding gift to the previous owner and her now ex-husband. It was made by a friend of his and signed by more of their friends. What gave me a shiver was the name that immediately caught my eye when I was removing it from the dryer. 

     Another weird "coincidence" was that she built this cabin after a bad divorce. Part of the reason I bought this cabin was to prove that I could do it because my ex always told me that my credit was no good and that's why he wouldn't put my name on our house. Not only is my credit not bad, but it's also damn near perfect. So, suck on that. I also found another similarity when I was texting her tonight. She asked if we wanted some furniture for the dollhouse that was upstairs. She said her parents made it for her when she was young. I told her that was funny because my dad had made me a doll house too. (Her dollhouse is staying in the cabin too, by the way.) It seems there are a few similarities or connections here. I hate calling them coincidences because I just don't believe in that. Things happen either because we've made them happen, or the Gods have chosen, for whatever reason, to intervene and nudge things in certain directions. Hope Springs was meant to be ours and we are honored to have it.