This Wednesday I return to a cabin in New Jersey’s Stokes State Forest for four nights. Lest any of you who have been following this blog find yourself thinking, Why is he doing that when he has no money and things are so horribly tight, the cabin was booked and paid for last April.
I stayed in the cabin in the picture last October.
It will good to go back. While I love where I live more than anywhere I have ever lived since my father died in 1969, there is something wonderfully special and cleansing about being in a spartan and rustic environment. These cabins are powerfully built and are not luxurious. They are cabins, cabins in the best sense of the word. One main room with a wood stove, table, two benches, two Adirondack chairs, a bunk bed, two single beds, a small kitchen off the main room and a small half-bath. There is electricity but no phone and no TV. Thank you God.
As I write I have quite a bit of my packing already done: food, books (three novels, a dictionary and thesaurus, along with Steinbeck’s Life in Letters), journals, books on tape and CD (I am bringing a tape/cd player), music CDs, a desk lamp for the table, and folding chair that gives my butt more mercy than the hard surface of an Adirondack chair.
I am bringing all of the memoir: the polished section of close to 150 pages at this point and the remaining 200 or so pages to be polished. I am bringing a ream of lovely blue typing paper to write on. A friend of mine, Dan, told me once that writing on a blue background is easy on the eyes and he was right. I use a pale blue background when writing on my PC and, whenever possible, plain blue paper for longhand.
I will not be posting anything on the blog while I am away but, I suspect, there will be a flurry of posts when I return. It’s funny, while I know some of you personally, the large majority of you who read this blog regularly I don’t know. Yet, in a way I feel like I do, and so let me say I’ll miss all of you and look forward to “seeing” you all when I get back.
In the meantime, take care of yourselves and remember to live.