Archeological dig

The mind can't take in all the stuff inside the cabin at Loveless. If there were ever any treasures to be had, others carted them off long ago. We’ve been left with the Loveless Landfill (though we want to keep all of it out of the actual landfill, if we can.)

It's hard not to feel like we're on some archeological dig, in the way this New York Times piece talks about photos of what's been left behind at foreclosed homes.

I cycle through emotions like a dishwasher. It’s sad and depressing to pick through pieces of someone’s abandoned life. Then again, what the hell? Leaving food in the kitchen cabinet?

And beer, water in the refrigerator?

We also found coloring books, Fisher Price play sets, a dinosaur toy, child-sized sleeping bags and winter coats. We found an old notebook that was filled with a half dozen pages of game scores, a sketch of a Guns and Roses album cover, and notes between people coming and going.

“I left on Thursday about 7:00,” said one. “I left the door open and the fan on low. The dog still has food and water, but he might be out of food when you get back.”

And then: “P.S. I left a Weekly World newspaper for you… I was going to mow the grass before I left but the lawnmower won’t start.”

There once was a life here.

A woman curled her hair.

People sprawled on the sofa after a day on the pontoon.

Bit by bit, we’re creating new memories. No matter what unfolds, we’ll leave the place better than we found it.