When I was back in Horton around Christmastime, I was strangely drawn to our old family friends’ house. They moved away long before we did, and like my parents, kept their house. Also like our family, they had three daughters around our ages. But unlike us, the parents separated and went on to live their own lives. The father kept the house, and apparently he comes back every so often for a few nights, according to my sister.
I walked through the fence marked “Private Property,” and made my way through the tall grass to the front of the cedar shingled cabin, which faces the creek. The details of the cabin didn’t make me recall any specific memories, but the general feeling was familiar. Whenever I see that book Woodstock Handmade Houses, it always reminds me of the rustic cabins that my parents’ friends lived in when I was young. This cabin has that same feeling as the ones in that book: cozy, natural, and kind of funky.
Once up the steps, I peeked in the windows and fell in love with the space. My mind started racing with all the things I would do to it if it were mine. Not that it really needs much added to what already exists, but it definitely needs an addition of a kitchen and bathroom. And I already have that worked out in my head. Needless to say, ideas have continued to swirl in my mind, and I can’t quite shake the idea of living in this place. I keep imagining summer days with the big doors in the loft opened up to the outside, letting the breeze in. And the garden I would plant. And cold nights curled up in front of the wood stove with warm drinks.
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All photos were taken with my iPhone.
city country city 
I LOVE it! What a beautiful and modest little cottage. I could imagine living a very simple life out there. It’s absolutely perfect.
you are tugging at my heart strings here. I want to live in a little cabin in the woods in the worst way. beautiful pics.
let’s sit on those steps and eat salad out of wood bowls xx
Thanks you guys! I wish we could all go spend a weekend there (although I might never leave…).
Let us know when you acquire this serine little place and I’ll come visit!
This makes me so happy. I love the Coast Range and all the little wooden houses my family’s hippie friends have there. Oregon forevah.
My grandparents lived in Horton in the late 50’s, early 60’s. They owned the little store/gas station/post office. At that time it was the typical country store painted white with multi-paned windows across the front. The living area was behind and above the store. I visited there about 15 years ago…and the memories were vivid like it had just been a few years vs about 40!
Cathy – that is amazing! There is only one store there – the Horton Market – and you can actually see photos of it in the last post before this one (called Homeward). The current owners, Sandy and Marilyn, have had it ever since the 70s, I think. I grew up going to dinners there, and my mom even worked in the store. Whenever I go back to Horton to visit, that’s my destination. 🙂
Thank you so much for the reference to the additional photos! It looks pretty much how I remember it from about 15 years ago. When I was a little child I loved to sit at the counter too and the sound of the little brass bell ringing when the door opened was always exciting. Grandma, Hazel Miller, would indulge me and let me play on the cash register, you know, the old-fashioned kind that actually made the ka-ching sound and the little dollar and cents tabs would pop up. Grandpa, Acce Miller, wasn’t as approving of my play, haha! The neighbor kids would catch the bus out front and they’d peek through the front window and steam up the glass with their smiles. I loved that store…it was like Ike Godsey’s on the Waltons…where all the neighbors would come for supplies, mail and a good visit. I’m so pleased to see it still functions the same way! Please pass along my greetings to your friends.