Field Notes #1

Living in an Old Church

July 4, 2026 | 7:41 am

It’s 7:41 on the morning of the Fourth of July.

I’ve been awake for about thirty minutes. The thermometer inside the old church already reads 84°, while outside it’s a cool 75°. It’s funny how 75° can feel refreshing after living through a Tennessee summer in a house without air conditioning. The old brick seems to hold onto yesterday’s heat, like an oven. Luckily the cement floor is cool under my feet, and and the cat is sprawled out on the floor.

One of these days we’ll either fix our attic fan or buy a fan large enough to pull that cool morning air inside. Until then, we’ve become pretty resourceful. Since our windows don’t open, we sleep with a couple of the side doors open at night. We have a fenced yard, so it feels safe enough, though our parents still think we’re crazy and remind us every chance they get that we need screens.

To be fair…they have a point. We’ve had a number of birds fly through the house (last year we counted 17). Neighborhood cats occasionally wander inside like they’ve lived here forever. One morning I found a cat curled up beside Greg in bed. I quietly shewed it back outside before he even realized he’d had a furry overnight guest.

Living in an old church certainly has its moments. Yesterday the temperature inside climbed to 93°. When it gets that warm, we’ve learned to slow down and work with the season instead of against it.

There’s always watermelon in the refrigerator this time of year. It’s one of those foods that feels like summer but also happens to be incredibly hydrating. We drink lots of water, take cold showers (sometimes two in one evening), and try not to fight the heat too much.

People often assume we live without air conditioning because we can’t afford to replace it.

The truth is a little different. Several years ago we realized the benefits of acclimating our bodies to the heat and not living in air conditioning our entire existence. We had our AC off all summer but realized our HVAC system had finally quit when we actually tried to turn it on while we left for vacation. Since we already knew we wanted to completely redesign the heating and cooling system whenever we renovate the church, replacing the old unit never made much sense. We decided to live with it for now and put that money toward the future instead.

That said...if I ever install one room with air conditioning before the rest of the house, it will absolutely be the kitchen. Mostly because of the flies. I’ve become strangely fascinated by them. They’re never around first thing in the morning. They disappear through much of the early afternoon and then, almost like clockwork, they show up later in the day. Yesterday I spent nearly ninety minutes in the kitchen without seeing a single one. While the house was quiet, I cut up a watermelon, made basil herb butter with herbs from the garden, and mixed together a cool dill sauce for dinner later this week. Summer has a way of changing what sounds good. Fresh herbs, cold sauces, and anything that comes straight from the garden seem to taste better when it’s this hot. I tried my first roma tomato on the vine too...it was mushy and not quite ready.

As I’m writing this, I just looked out toward the permaculture garden and spotted the neighborhood black cat wandering through the paths. For a second I thought it was ours...until I turned around and saw our cat fast asleep on the cement floor.

That pretty much sums up life around here.

We just got back from Minnesota, where we spent several days at my family’s cabin on Woman Lake. It’s been part of my life since I was little, and this was one of the first times Greg really got to experience it. Watching him fall in love with a place that holds so many of my childhood memories may have been my favorite part of the trip.

The weather there was perfect! Cool mornings, afternoons in the low 70s, northern pike, bass, swimming, and long days that somehow never felt rushed. Coming home to Tennessee heat has been a bit of a shock.

Today is the Fourth of July, and honestly, we don’t have many plans. We might try to sneak down to the river before everyone else does, or maybe we’ll ride our bikes into town tonight to watch the fireworks.

I do wish August were here.

He’s still enjoying time with my parents between the cabin and their farm in Iowa. I love knowing he’s spending his summer mostly outside, swimming, exploring, helping around the farm, and making memories that don’t involve screens. It feels like the kind of childhood that becomes part of who you are.

Before long I’ll probably head outside to tackle the garden. The weeds have completely taken over while we were gone. Our two apple trees, Honey and Granny, as we named them three years ago, aren’t looking too happy either. We later learned they were planted where an old parking lot once sat, and the rocky ground has made growing them a challenge.

Still, that little patch of land has become my favorite place at home. The speramint brushes against my legs as I walk the paths and keeps encroaching more and more on my path. Tomatoes are beginning to ripen. Pollinators buzz from flower to flower, and herbs spill over the edges of the beds. The hops are creeping up the power lines and we are waiting for a letter from the city or someone to come out and cut it down, but for now it's not harming anything and has stopped growing up about midway on the pole. Sometimes it feels wild and a little overgrown, but I think that’s why I love it. Nature rarely looks perfect!

Life feels a little uncertain these days.

I recently left my front desk job at the yoga studio. I’m still seeing esthetic clients, helping with youth fly fishing programs, guiding friends and family in the Smokies, and dreaming up new projects. Some weeks are wonderfully busy. Other weeks leave me wondering if I should dust off my résumé and find something more traditional.

Maybe that would be the responsible thing to do. But I’ve also worked hard to build a life where the seasons shape my days. A life where I have time to grow food, help kids discover the outdoors, care for my clients, work on old houses, and chase ideas that matter to me. Giving that up feels harder than I expected.

Maybe that’s what these Field Notes will become. Not perfectly curated stories. Just honest observations from an old church, a garden that always needs weeding, a kitchen that’s somehow both too hot and my favorite room in the house, and a life that is still very much being built.

For now, today looks like watermelon, weeds, or maybe some fishing on one of the rivers. Then most likely a bike ride to fireworks, and seeing where the Fourth of July takes us.

And honestly, that sounds like a pretty good day.

Today's Notes

Inside: 84°

Outside: 75°

Kitchen: Watermelon, basil herb butter & dill sauce.

Garden: The weeds are winning.

Thinking about: Minnesota and cooler temperatures.

Grateful for: Greg loving the cabin as much as I do, and August getting one more week of an old-fashioned summer.