When Roy and I got married, we were living in the city (approximately 65,000 in population) in
For a wedding present, his parents gave us the 14' x 16' tar-paper, one-room shack they lived in while building their house several years before. Roy really disliked (okay, hated) living in town so each weekend (without fail) we loaded some groceries and our female cocker spaniel dog, Gus, into our Volkswagen Beetle and headed for our cabin in the woods on Roy's folks' property. We did this for a year.
The next time Easter rolled around, sometime in the week preceding Easter Weekend,
"Yup," he said, "but this time we're not coming back Sunday night.”
Wha . . . ? Huh? But . . . but . . . but. He said he couldn't tolerate living in town any longer. We had not very nice (loud, lots of liquor involved) neighbors on the one side with only their driveway dividing our properties. He was used to living where you couldn't even see a neighbor, let alone be privy to their every conversation. At the time, it took us each a half hour to drive across town to school and work each day and Roy reasoned that by moving to the cabin, we'd have only about an hour's drive to my work and a little more to his school in the morning and, of course, the same back home each night.
Moving Day / Easter 1966
So on Easter Weekend, we moved. To the one-room cabin with bunk beds, a two-burner hot plate, a small refrigerator, and no running water. We did have electricity via a line strung through the woods from his parents' house. And a biffy in the woods behind the cabin.
We continued to drive the fifty-five miles each way for the next three years with me working,
I don't think either of us ever considered our one hour commute morning and night, five days a week, a hardship. It enabled us to establish our first home "in the country," and since then, except for one brief stint renting in town before purchasing this current property here in the north woods, we've always lived out in the country or woods.
This month marks our thirteenth year on this piece of land and this fall it will be our thirty-sixth year in northeastern