Many cultures have stories about what came first, what was there "in the beginning", so to speak. In our case, that was forest. Dense, dense forest. The kind of forest that hasn't seen a human being in years.
I'm going to try not to give too much away, as this is the Internet so the safest thing for me is to assume that anyone reading this anonymously is a terrible person (prove me wrong, Internet), and I'm not super interested in someone coming to my home in the middle of the night to murder me with an axe.
Also, my axe is sharper than yours, so back off, ya Hinterkaifeck-lookin' ass.
The short version is that our "city house" is in Nashville, Tennessee, and our homestead isn't. It is in the Southeastern United States, but that's all you get.
So here's what it looked like when we arrived:
Admit it, how long did it take you to notice the hammocks there?
After bushwhacking our way through our new jungle, we eventually found a little corner that was just... almost eerily welcoming. It felt right, right from the first time we saw it. We settled in, strung up some hammocks, and took a nap.
Fairly inauspicious beginnings, eh? Trust me, it stays inauspicious for a while.
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