Do not disturb

Here is where Erin lives, and has for the last 16 months or so. Except for the (soon-to-be-remedied) fact that the dog often holds her prisoner here, it has been a wonderful move for her and, by extension, for all of us. It's inconvenient to have to dress up in boots and jacket to go to bed, or run to the bathroom, but the privacy, independence and responsibility are so worth it. Despite the fact that we haven't actually got around to properly winterizing it, despite the fact that it is a pigsty inside, despite the fact that going to bed when the rest of the household is asleep and there is wildlife lurking in the forest must be a bit scary, she loves it.

Here she can lie awake listening to music, singing, writing, talking to herself or reading aloud until 3 or 4 a.m.. And she can sleep in as late as she likes without being disturbed, except when some sort of personal or family responsibility requires her to get up. I have tacet permission to use saracastiquotes to ask if she would like me to get her up "early" at, say, 10:30 a.m., so that she can have a shower before going to piano lesson.

She has spent much of this year turned very tightly inward. Figuring out who she is as an almost-adult, I suppose. I see signs that she's emerging lately. Having the cabin this year has given her a place to retreat and chrysalate without needing to come across as surly, rude or avoidant. When we do get the chance to interact with her, which I admit has been infrequent during much of the past year, she's mostly fun, witty and easy to get along with. Not much more I can ask for, I guess.