First, we built you in our heads.
I first-drafted your built-ins with grease pencils on the side of the CNC machines at work. Then, we got to watch you slowly transform from those nebulous, imagined shapes in our heads, to those textured surfaces, lit coves, and pools and eddies of glowing, finished wood.
To touch and feel what we’ve imagined for so long has been weird and magical, and immensely rewarding—on an existential level.
After a series of repairs that threatened the bonds of both friends and family, we’ve transformed you from a modest shit-hole with a death-trap of jerry rigged electrical work into a luxurious palace.
For the past eleven years, you have been good to us. You’ve taught me woodworking, electrical, plumbing, landscaping, patience and dedication to the long game. We have been lucky for you, and will forever be grateful for you.
Now, we are handing you on to someone else. I am certain you will treat them well (as any delicious pocket from this world would). Though we are moving on, we will always hold you in our hearts. Thank you for being our home, protector, teacher and keeper.