Living in a Forest

I bought this house in early spring—a season in the Pacific Northwest that’s sunny but still carries a lingering chill. For those unfamiliar with the region, spring temperatures typically hover around 50–60°F, and it’s considered a real treat if we hit anything above 70°F.

Today brought back memories as I fired up the grill for my family. The weather felt almost identical to the day I moved in. I was in short sleeves, even though many around here still reach for sweaters. The house backs right up to a forest, and every now and then we’re visited by deer. Occasionally, we’ll spot a coyote or two wandering through.

Though I lived alone for over a decade and cooked for myself regularly, I haven’t spent much time in the kitchen since getting married—except when it comes to barbecuing. That’s still my domain. It’s my chance to be outdoors, focused, and hands-on. For the longest time, the kids thought I couldn’t cook since their mom usually ran the kitchen. That changed the day I grilled some chicken with my own seasoning. They loved it so much, they even named it “Daddy’s Chicken.” We enjoy steak too, though we lean toward leaner cuts with less fat.

Some things haven’t changed over the years. The kids still keep me company while I cook on the deck. The only difference now is the details—my daughter still sits nearby, but these days she’s flipping through her favorite book anout “CMOS”: not CMOS as in semiconductors, but the Chicago Manual of Style.