Simplicity wrapped in Modern Accoutrements

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin and was greeted with the most magical sunset ever witnessed. It was perfect timing and a great start to our vacation with the kids.

We sat in the SUV in silence looking out the window at the combination of red, pink, yellow and gray kaleidoscope of swirls, a bit exhausted from the four-hour drive navigating mountain hills, and soft 90 degree turns on roads with three pre-teen girls.

The tension left my body sitting in the driveway and I reached for my husband’s hand.

We both exhaled in the awe of the sky before one of the girls brought us back to reality with, “I have to go the bathroom.” We both looked at each other, smiled and kicked into gear responding with the click of the car door. He turned the engine off and I responded, “Yup, let’s go inside.”

Leaving everything in the car and using what was left of the daylight to navigate the inside surroundings, we found the key box on the door and entered the provided numeric sequence to get inside. A quick look about and a bathroom was discovered on the first level and quickly occupied by our youngest, who, at the age of 10 did an amazing job to wait this long to relieve herself.

The other two 12-year-old twins, ran upstairs accompanied by aggressive sounds of sneakers hitting wood and started shouting the descriptive blow-by-blow of each room they entered; “wow,” “amazing,” “we have a fireplace in our room,” “the windows are huge,” “we have a bathroom in our room.” All the while we were downstairs in the kitchen reading the house rules and turning lights on, room by room.

My husband found a rather high pile of wood stacked adjacent to the fireplace in the living room and dutifully started arranging the kindling inside the pit to start a fire to shake off the December cold outside.

After finding our master bedroom and ensuite, and doing a quick walkthrough on the bottom floor, my priority was to get the things out of the car inside, and I yelled up to the three girls, where the youngest had since joined, to help me get the things out of the car.

The excited nature of discovering the unknown was still with the girls and they jumped down the stairs, omitting several rows as they came down.

Outside we worked as a conveyer belt. I loaded up one child to the point where they could not manage another bag and they turned to go in the house. Next up, I did the same thing, until I carried the last of the bags of groceries leaving the pillows the girls brought, in the seats up front.

Inside, the girls put the bags on the large island in the kitchen and were off darting from room-to-room downstairs and investigating what they had not seen while upstairs.

I went outside one last time to get the pillows and backpacks for the girls.

Inside, with pillows under my arms, I dropped the backpacks at the base of the stairs, and I shouted to the girls to show me their room. They appeared from the master downstairs and saw I had pillows, and each took theirs from me and grabbed one shoulder strap that was their backpack and were soon in competition to be the first up the stairs to show me.

Uninterested in the tour, and with a successful fire illuminating the living room, my husband started to review the house binder, and then went outside to explore the grounds.

I was verbally pulled apart as each child had their own agenda of what to show first. “Mum, look at this closet,” Mum, we have a fireplace, will Dad help us get it started?” “Look at our huge bathroom.” Each kid spread within the space and pointing to their piece of the tour.

The room strategically supported three full sized beds without feeling crowded or being too close to the fireplace.

The substantial room, fireplace, closet, and the ensuite secured two thirds the size of the cabin with the balance of the upstairs utilized with a walkway, hall closet and nook under a window occupied with low bookshelves and fuzzy beanbag chairs. This section had an open feeling and looked down into the living room.

The A-frame was new construction, and therefore had high-end features like a garbage disposal and ceiling sprinklers, but completely built with an 1880’s rustic wilderness look-and-feel simplicity.

Large, natural wood logs built the structure and in some places burnt for authenticity to a period long gone. The building did supply central heat and air, but the fireplaces were quite large and there was an assumption that this was a preferred choice during the cold. With the living room, the master bedroom and the bedroom upstairs all equipped with a fireplace, my husband got to work building fires with the ample supply of cut wood.

I left the kids upstairs to sort out who is sleeping where and passed my husband on the stairs on the way down. I headed to the kitchen to start on dinner, and he headed upstairs to start a fire.

I put away what was not needed for tonight’s dinner and laid the contents of the meal on the center island.

The kitchen, compared to all the other rooms, was the smallest and nearest to the front door and modest porch. It had five seats around it but did not feel crowded since the seats were tucked under the lip of the island table. The kitchen did not have line of sight into the living room and there was a large pocket door that separated the two spaces. A handmade wood table was on the other side of the kitchen wall and would have been considered part of the living room, but plenty of space apart and between the large, cozy deep blue couch. The flow was very family orientated and socially built.

A quick shuffle of draws and cabinets and I had the layout of the pots and pans.

Twenty minutes later, I had spaghetti on five plates with a porkchop on top of each and garlic bread rapped in a towel in a basket, and we were ready to eat.

I put out the forks, knives, and spoons in a pile in the center, and called to everyone to come get a plate.

Each showed up, very hungry, took a plate, and I directed them to go in the next room to eat.

While eating, I gave them ideas of what the next seven days would be like in activities, in food and chores. That is to say who would set the table and clear the table. Tonight, however, I would take care of clean up.

It was 7:00pm by the time we ate and with the travel and just being in school and at work earlier that day, everyone was ready for an early night.

Lights out at 8:30 pm for the girls with the heat of their fireplace and dancing light.

My husband and I sat at the table and did a quick check on ideas of interest, rather, we had energy to discuss the next day and then turned in at 9:30 pm.

Awake with renewed energy and one of the deepest slumbers I have ever had, I started to cook breakfast at 6:00 am while my husband and I enjoyed the slow pace of not having to be anywhere over coffee and tea.

I had soaked a ham in white vinegar the day before and was cutting off small, dime-sided pieces to fry to accompany the eggs, home fries and hot chocolate.

While my husband tended to a new fire in the living room, I was setting the table.

Within the hour, all three kids came downstairs with the smell of food as their alarm clock. I noticed two of the three were wearing the same clothes from yesterday and just raised an eyebrow.

Settled in at the table, we ate and talked about the choices of the day; a museum in town depicting the settlers going west, sledding, hiking, and cross-country skiing. Basically, reading from the choices left in the booklet in the kitchen next to the house rules.

Lots of discussion was being tossed around when I heard a knock at the door. Since I was standing and I had dirty plates in my hand, I needed to go in the kitchen anyway and volunteered to see who it was.

I was greeted by a senior woman wrapped in layers, a senior man smoking a pipe and a black Labrador puppy. They introduced themselves as the property owners and were checking on how we were settling in. I invited them in for hot chocolate and they asked if anyone was allergic to dogs. “No,” was my response and added, “the kids would be delighted to meet the dog.” He nestled his pipe on the porch railing cradled by snow and they kicked their boots on the stairs as they walked up.

Inside, the dog ran to where he heard noise and giggles in the living room and squeals of joy ensued as the girls and the puppy collided on the floor to play. I called for my husband to meet us in the kitchen, and we shook hands as they introduced themselves. They were there to show us the equipment outside for our use.

With the modernization of the cabin, we learned of the unique features from the tin roof that specifically prohibited snow from lingering to the metal grading surrounding the building so snow fell in and was melted and pulled away from the cabin into the nearby lake.

My husband and I got our coat and boots on, at their request, so they could show us the detached shed deeper in the woods. Since we arrived at dusk and were preoccupied with the sunset, dinner, unpacking, and fireplaces, we never noticed it. Adding to this mystery, the shed was painted green to blend in with those trees that do not drop leaves during the winter.

The key lock was the same digital combination as the house and the double doors opened to a multitude of summer and winter toys and supplies available to our use to which we both just stood there and stared. Motionless, we both just said, “Wow.”

Since the house was built to host five – seven occupants, the supplies were according to this ratio. Seven sets of snowshoes, seven sets of cross-country skis, seven sleds, and seven ice skate extensions. It was impressive, extremely well thought out and stocked.

On the left, the wall had a series of hooks and pully systems so placement high up was easy to get down without using a ladder.

Items for summer also occupied the space such as a slip n’ slide, a hose that pushed water in many directions, canoe for the pond, and bikes. There was enough space to the right that allowed for an individual to gear up with benches and short ballet railings to hold on to.

There was an upstairs loft and it held Christmas decorations, equipment to cut and hold a Christmas tree, and equipment for camping that included a portable stove among other things.

There was a gate to go upstairs that was locked and during this tour we were told the equipment upstairs needed to be signed out since they, the owners, needed to be aware for safety. Additionally, if any trees were to be cut down, they would provide a map.

Though it was December, we confirmed we were here to relax and not do any of the labor involved in the holiday.

They also gave us a piece of paper that mentioned needlepoint lessons next to a firepit, and a group hayride pulled by two large horses, snowmobile rides, the town tree lighting, a snow fort building event, snow family building contest, and a snowball fight in town as part of the holiday celebrations. It was all happening within three of the seven days we were in town, so they wanted to mention it.

Now overwhelmed with choices, we locked up the shed and headed back to the cabin so our hosts could retrieve their dog and we could identify our week.

As we walked past our car, I could not help but notice the driveway was free of snow though we got a light dusting overnight. Our hosts saw my confusion and said the flat cobble stones that comprised the upward driveway were heated so snow and ice melted. This was a necessary function of the area since the back woods were not a priority by the town to plow and the drive was at an incline. They further impressed us by saying the energy to heat it was through solar with a secondary backup by a hydropower.

Inside, the puppy reluctantly left the girls, and the pipe was recaptured on the porch.

Waving goodbye and telling them we would see them in town.

I found my suitcase and took out a white sketch pad and went to the coffee table in the living room. Armed with the schedule of events we just received, coupled with the many items in the shed, I marked up the days we would be at the cabin. I started by putting those time sensitive town events on the calendar and then my husband and I tossed out ideas to fill in the gaps from the items we knew from the shed. Soon we had a family, fun-packed week scheduled.

Through the physical activities, the meals, and traversing from cabin to town, this A-frame cabin became the beginning and ending of our day and a beacon for ultimate relaxation, peace, reconnection, and conversation. We felt safe, refreshed, warm and cozy.

It allowed for comfortable living with high-end modern appliances and accoutrements yet spoke to the simplicity of a simpler time in history where the only things that mattered was a healthy family, four walls to call home and the freedom to go and do what you want.