I thought I was booking myself two quiet nights in a tiny cob house.
I did not expect to spend half the trip thinking about real estate.
Not the cob walls. I am not currently searching for houses made out of mud, straw, sand and water. Although I have to admit, the little curved windows and that fireplace were pretty adorable.
It was everything happening outside the house that got me.
Coffee on the patio. Trees. Birds. A breeze moving through. Sitting outside for breakfast without having to drive somewhere first or make an outing out of it.
I miss this so much!!!
And apparently my brain took all of that information and immediately went, “Yes. More of this, please.”
You can watch the full cob house trip here:
I keep thinking about the patio
One morning I took my coffee and breakfast outside and sat there listening to the birds and just taking in all the nature around me.
It reminded me of van life immediately.
For years I could open the door of my little home and be outside. Sometimes that meant the desert. Sometimes the forest. Sometimes water.
Outside was just right there.
I did not have to put on shoes, get in the car, find a trail, drive to a park or make nature into an activity.
I could make coffee and step outside.
I miss that.
I do not miss everything about full-time travel. I really love having an actual home now. I love my adjustable bed and my couch. I love having all of my kitchen stuff. And as much as I hate to admit it, I've become very particular about mattresses and pillows, which I think is one of those things you earn with age.
I know what I like now.
But I think I am realizing that what I want next is a way to have both.
What I actually mean when I say I want to live “in nature”
I have been looking for another rental, and I keep describing what I want as something “natury.”
Very technical real estate terminology let me tell you. I can't type that into the real estate apps. So I've been searching awhile for something different and something even more peaceful.
What I mean is that I want nature to feel connected to the house instead of being somewhere I have to go visit.
A few things keep coming up for me:
- Some privacy around the house
- Trees or open space outside the windows
- A place where I can sit outside with coffee or eat a meal
- Enough separation from neighbors that filming does not feel awkward
- Space for my work and all the things that come with running my business
- A home that feels comfortable and manageable, not enormous
- Quiet
A hot tub would obviously not offend me.
I am not putting that on the required list.
Probably.
The funny part is that none of those things are particularly fancy. I do not need a giant house. I do not need a designer kitchen. I do not need five bedrooms or a dramatic staircase.
Actually, please no dramatic staircase.
I keep coming back to how I want an ordinary Tuesday morning to feel.
Can I open the door and sit outside?
Can Georgie wander around with me?
Can I see trees instead of another building?
Can I film without showing half the neighborhood through my windows?
That matters more to me now than a lot of things I probably would have cared about years ago.
Oh, and does it have space for my mail club business, because I am running out of room.
I think van life permanently changed what “home” means to me
I used to think the choice was either travel or settle down.
I do not think I see it that way anymore.
Van life taught me that I really love being connected to the outdoors.
I really do miss those days of feeling so connected nature all the time and feeling so at peace. I'd step outside in the morning and raise my head to the sun, do some light stretches while Lily (my dog who passed away now) did her business. Then, of course, coffee was made piping hot with some sort of yummy breakfast and then Lily and I would bathe in that morning sun outside sitting in my camp chair with a little table beside me.
It's one of my favorite memories of all my travels. That little morning routine was something I did in 49 states over 3 countries. Absolute bliss!
Then, apartment life reminded me how much I love the comfort of staying in one place and putting down roots, a routine and having my own things around me - and not what just can fit in the van.
But I think that is why these little trips work so well for me now. I get to scratch the explorer itch without giving up the homebody life I genuinely love.
Two or three nights somewhere new.
A couple of hours from home.
Georgie with me.
A book, knitting, coffee and enough food that I somehow still manage to shop like I am staying for a week.
Then I go home.
That seems to be my sweet spot right now.
The kind of travel I actually want more of
I spent a lot of years thinking travel had to be bigger. Longer road trips. New states. Big routes. Keep moving.
Now I am much more interested in small pockets of somewhere new.
A strange little house.
A bookstore in a town I have never explored.
A thrift store I did not plan on stopping at.
A good sandwich.
A few hours outside with Georgie.
And then my own bed again. That is probably why this trip felt so good. It did not need to become a whole production.
I did not need two weeks.
I did not need an itinerary.
I did not even really need to go very far.
And then, of course, I found a house
This is the part that made the timing a little funny.
While I was sitting at the cob house talking about how much I wanted a rental surrounded by nature, I found one that looked unusually promising.
I had a FaceTime walkthrough scheduled.
And I was trying very hard not to mentally move in before I had even seen the whole place.
By the time you are reading this, I may know more.
I am saving that part for another video because I want you to come along for the actual process instead of me spoiling it here.
But I will say this: on paper, it checks a lot of boxes. I mean a lot. So much so that I feel like I'm getting my hopes up that this is the one!
We will see.
A Quiet Note From Me
If you like the parts of these stories that happen between the videos, the thoughts I am still working through, little updates and whatever I happen to be making, reading or overthinking that week, that is what I share in A Quiet Note From Me.
You can join the newsletter here:
The Table: A small, thoughtful space for conversation, shared experiences, and slowing down together.
And if you are more of a paper person, The Story Post is my monthly snail-mail club. I send a letter along with little pieces I create around the month’s theme, usually involving some combination of creativity, reflection, food, analog life and whatever has been happening over here.
Join The Story Post Snail Mail Club - It's a fun way to get a unique art print that I create, a personal letter by me, slow living prompt card, recipe card, and a few extras each month.
Things I Mentioned
- Watch the cob house video: YouTube video
- Quimby Books in Independence, Oregon: Quimby Books
- Yesteryear: https://amzn.to/4h14ZNA
- My Moka pot: https://amzn.to/4r8y9ip
- My previous solo beach bungalow trip:
I am curious about this one.
If you could change one thing about where you live now, not buy a whole new fantasy house, just change one thing that would make your everyday life feel better, what would it be?
Mine might be as simple as opening the back door with my coffee and seeing trees.
And maybe Georgie doing a handstand somewhere nearby.
Leave me a comment below for all of us to discuss!
