Dear curious reader,
This season, we found ourselves cohabitating with new beings. Beetles, caterpillars, tons, and I mean TONS of mosquitoes. Dragonflies and butterflies. Completely harmless, though when their size could overshadow your hand, you’d always flinch on instinct. But also, strangers who have reached out through friends of friends; finding out about us through the articles published.
The recurring topic of conversation that keeps coming up, in fact on more than two separate occasions - a different way of living. I am completely in awe, partly because, once again, nothing we do here is special. While Sean effectively knows a lot more about building, I for one, am completely clueless beyond following a simple IKEA instruction manual. If I may speak freely, it does feel like I’m just here for the ride. This chapter though, I’m picking it up more. Plastering, tiling, painting. But that’s beside the point.
When you do think about a house, it’s shelter. A place to hide. With a home, it’s a feeling often associated with comfort. But also undeniably, a safe place to hide. Whether it’s figuring out what you want to do with the rest of your life, to take a momentary break from reality, it warms my heart that you made the conscious choice to be a part of ours. That this is something you think we can provide.
With that knowledge, thank you for making the time to drop by. And if schedules align, we hope for you to come again soon.
Spring is bleeding into summer. When we first booked our tickets, we knew we wanted to avoid the heat. So just as the temperature is beginning to hit 30 degrees, here we are, packing up the 3rd chapter.
Something to note. Something I didn’t expect isle of dreams to educate me on - patience. The beauty of incompleteness. We have quite a number of unfinished projects. Namely, the main wall. The toilet. And to reveal what Sean was excited about this trip - a cabin. Homage paid, this is the revival of his love letter to a lighthouse. The bones are there, somewhat taking shape.
As you can see, we have much more to do. What initially was fuel for anxiety, turned into a form of structure. Because this sets the agenda for our next trip. Come autumn 2024, which is when we intend to return, we would have effectively lived in this house for a year. And once we enter through those doors, the hinoki scent taking our breath away again, we’ll begin work on the things left undone.
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