In 1986 I married into a Mineral King cabin. I’d always wanted either a cabin or a beach house. Here in Tulare County, cabins are more available and accessible than beach houses. It has worked out well, even to the point that my art business is called Cabin Art. (Or Cabinart. . . for a Typo-Psycho, I am awfully ambivalent about the spelling of this invented word.)
But what exactly is a cabin? A dear old friend and I began discussing this, and I was surprised that I am unable to define the word. Some cabin neighbors along with Off Trail Guy and I had a discussion about the definition of “cabin”, and the word “woods” came up several times in both discussions.
My hiking buddy suggested I try Webster. I was so caught off guard that I said something truly clueless: “What is that? Some internet thing?” We all got a big laugh when I realized she meant Noah Webster and the Merriam-Webster dictionary, not some World Wide Web gizmo.
We had an old dictionary at the cabin, so I looked up “cabin”. The 3rd definition said, “A small, rude hut”.
Clearly the word “rude” has changed in meaning since the dictionary was published in 1935. I looked up “rude” and saw “Poorly constructed”.
Alrighty, then. A cabin is a small, poorly constructed hut.
My Very Wise Dad always told us it is better to laugh than to cry. I might even fall down laughing at this definition, especially when folks mention their Shaver Lake or Tahoe cabins.
Let’s talk more about this tomorrow.
How do you define “cabin”? (Don’t spoil things by looking it up first – just speak from your gut or your heart.)