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The snow is melting, the winds are kicking up, Sandhill cranes are gliding overhead, and hummingbirds are on their way up from Mexico. Must be March in Crestone. I feel like I spent more time looking forward to winter than actually experiencing winter. Came and went in a few weeks. Most of the big snow missed us — even when it was dumping feet just an hour’s drive north. The San Luis Valley is strange that way.
Last year, we bought an angry old man’s one-room cabin from a lady named Rosemary, who’d inherited it when her brother, John died a few years ago. John had built the place as a kind of “go to hell and leave me alone” space. Apparently, he was kind of a Unabomber type. Judging by the books and VHS tapes we found, he was a very intelligent man, but he’d had enough of the world.
Long story, but Rosemary wanted us to have it, so she made us an offer we couldn’t refuse. We had no idea what we’d do with it. At first, we were going to just tear it down, but the views are great, and John had overbuilt it, as guys like him tend to. It would be A LOT of work to pull all those nails! So, after considering various options, we settled on turning the place into a “Grooving Area,” which is a phrase Anya found on some 1970s blueprints. We’ve gutted it, covered the exposed insulation with tongue-and-groove paneling, fixed the roof, replaced the stairs, encased the exterior in corrugated metal siding that will rust to a natural brown in a few months. We’re going to cover the floor in wall-to-wall jiujitsu mats and throw up a stripper pole or two. That’s what’s happening over here. Come visit!
CPR
I remember seeing that thing before you bought it, and thought man, thats exactly what i want to build to live in. Full Unabomber digs and everything. But I guess a grooving area works too.