I can't stop thinking about building a tiny house in a remote location.
I think about doing it ourselves and what an amazing project it would be to build it over a summer.
I remember how when we lay in the hammock of your parent's A frame summer home in the woods, you described the fondness of your memories growing up visiting the cabin each season.
I think about how lovely it would be to bring our kids someplace each summer where they grow up and curate the same nostalgia.
They would grow their friendships there. And learn to swim. And be dirty for days.
I muse about living simply. Making dinners together with our husbands in the fading light.
And about how living in close quarters for a period of time; away from technology and the distraction of modern day, will hone our sense of what is important, guiding our decisions for the remainder of the calendar.
Building the project stone by stone would be a kind of love letter to our families.
If we did it when the kids were old enough to help, the process would be the ultimate teachable project.
I imagine it becoming a place that we return for generations.
A place that Ella and Violet bring their friends and eventually their husbands.
And; someday, when we are gone, the legacy of our friendship and memories will forge a continued bond of our families together. In a place that connects them, if only for the summer.