We recently bought a little log cabin about two hours from our house. We rent it out when we’re not using it, and so far, have enjoyed some nice weekends there.
Honestly, it’s a bit strange having a house that doesn’t require any major updates. Sure, there’s always some improvement you can make- hang a porch swing, rail off the deck, put in a patio- but overall? It’s pretty much done!
It’s the other end of the spectrum when you consider the amount of blood, sweat and tears our bungalow requires. And yes, we still have a mountain of work to do on the bungalow.
To be fair though, the cabin has other… ahem…features that takes some adjustment.
“Features” being large, prehistoric bugs that enjoy living in the woods around our little cabin. I guess their accommodations are five-star because they grow big. BIG. And weird looking. Bugs that literally look like they could transform into little robots at the press of a button. Bugs that look like they could drain all the blood from your body before you could say, “What was that noise?”. Bugs that perform kamikaze aerial feats at your head in the hopes of knocking you out, and providing a feast for their buddies.
I was at the cabin with Li about a month ago, cleaning up to go home. I had almost finished the vacuuming, with Li happily playing at my feet, when a HUGE beetle/centipede/wasp thing launched itself over the kitchen bar at my head. I could hear the mighty beat of its wings, and felt a hurricane force of air brush past my face, and flinched out of the way at the last minute. My quick thinking probably saved my life as if my head had been a centimeter to the right, it would have hit me square in the face, and knocked me out cold and allowed for my unconscious body to be dragged into the woods and hung up in a cocoon for an enjoyable mutant insect snack this winter.
An artist’s rendition of the scene:
Instead, the monster fell to the floor- inches from my baby. MY BABY!
Naturally, I screamed, and with the scream still reverberating off of the rafters, snatched Li off of the floor- scaring her into screaming also.
The beast had fallen onto its turtle-like shell, and it was waving it’s furry antennae in fury as it struggled to pull itself up. I saw my only opportunity and lunged with the vacuum, sucking him up- and felt the great beast rattle and thrash his way down the entire tube.
I still have nightmares.
Don’t even get me started on the wild animals, the pitch-black night sky, or the bango music I heard in the woods…*
Oh- did I mention we’re going up for the night tonight?
*I’m only kidding…a little.