We had decided to move to the country. We had lived in downtown Brattleboro too long for my blood. Every night the fire alarms would ring in my ears and I just wasn’t handling it. A house came along. Well, sort of a house. They called them yurts and they were round houses that were tied together by regular construction. That was where the kitchen was. On one end of the house, the yurts was our bedroom and the other end of the house it was our living room. Two wood stoves heated the house.
Round houses. Imagine that. Nothing could go in a corner because there wasn’t one(Would have been great when I was a child and being disciplined. Go stand in the corner…) so square furniture was struggling for space. The walls sloped outwards from the bottom, so pictures didn’t hang, they laid there. The cat could run up the walls. Continue reading The Yurt’s Experience