Everything That Doesn’t Fit
The architecture of a reset.
Last week I was in the mountains of North Carolina instead of Hilton Head Island, South Carolina—where my husband and I usually head in May. For whatever reason, when we were looking for pet-friendly holiday rentals in HHI this year, nothing seemed to fit.
We usually take a holiday the first or second week of May, and this year, especially knowing my job was ending May 1st, he was adamant that we get out of town the week after. He didn’t want me to transition from my job and identity of sixteen years to—absolutely nothing. At home.
Somehow I found the most magnificent rental in Banner Elk. New. Mountain modern. Minimal. With an interior composed of neutral tones and organic textures. No orange wood. No chinking. No grotesque log beds. Just a serene interior that would allow my mind to breathe instead of process visual clutter.
Basically, a unicorn.
We walked in and my jaw dropped. It was better than perfect.
Paid subscribers: Next Sunday I take you inside the rental in the mountains.
He was right about getting out of town this week. About “resetting” somewhere the hell else. And this rental, in a city I’d never visited, could not have been more right if I’d hired someone to build it for me.
Here’s what I didn’t expect.
