The Cabin in Summer

Speaker 1 Get more, nothing much happens with bonus episodes, extra long stories, and ad-free listening, all while supporting the show you love. Subscribe now.

Speaker 2 That's the sound of the fully electric Audi Q6 e-tron and the quiet confidence of ultra-smooth handling. The elevated interior reminds you this is more than an EV.

Speaker 2 This is electric performance redefined.

Speaker 2 Charlie Sheen is an icon of decadence. I lit the fuse and my life turns into everything it wasn't supposed to be.
He's going the distance. He was the highest-paid TV star of all time.

Speaker 2 When it started to change, it was quick. He kept saying, No, no, no, I'm in the hospital now, but next week I'll be ready for the show.
Now, Charlie's sober. He's gonna tell you the truth.

Speaker 2 How do I present this with any class? I think we're past that, Charlie. We're past that, yeah.
Somebody call action.

Speaker 2 AKA Charlie Sheen, only on Netflix, September 10th.

Speaker 1 Let's take a deep

Speaker 1 And out through the mouth.

Speaker 1 It feels good to breathe deeply.

Speaker 1 And the air we breathe, especially at night, matters more than we might think.

Speaker 1 While we sleep, our bodies are hard at work.

Speaker 1 restoring, repairing, and recharging. But that work can be quietly disrupted by what's floating in the air.
Things like dust, pollen, and other allergens.

Speaker 1 I didn't used to think much about indoor air quality, but once I did, I realized, if we care about what we eat and drink, why not care just as much about what we breathe?

Speaker 1 That's why I sleep with a Jasper air scrubber in my room. It has no annoying lights and doubles as a gentle white noise machine that's become essential to my bedtime rhythm.

Speaker 1 But more than anything, it's turned my bedroom into a sleep sanctuary. A space where the air helps me sleep deeply and peacefully.
I can't recommend Jasper enough.

Speaker 1 You can learn more at jasper.co.

Speaker 1 And if you use the code SLEEP, you'll get $300 off.

Speaker 1 That's J-A-S-P-R.co.

Speaker 1 Use code SLEAP for $300 off.

Speaker 1 Welcome to bedtime stories for everyone

Speaker 1 in which

Speaker 1 nothing much happens.

Speaker 1 You feel good.

Speaker 1 And then you fall asleep.

Speaker 1 I'm Catherine Nicolai.

Speaker 1 I write and read

Speaker 1 all the stories you hear on Nothing Much Happens

Speaker 1 with Audio Engineering by Bob Wittersheim.

Speaker 1 We give to a different charity each week, and this week we are giving to the National Book Foundation.

Speaker 1 They work to celebrate the best literature published in the United States, expand its audience, and ensure that books have a prominent place in our culture.

Speaker 1 You can learn more about them in our show notes.

Speaker 1 Did you know that we make extra long episodes of NMH?

Speaker 1 We call them Much More Happens.

Speaker 1 I know, I crack me up.

Speaker 1 We just released our second Summer Favorites Edition,

Speaker 1 and it is over eight hours long. So if you wake in the night,

Speaker 1 You don't have to do anything. You just hear me for a few seconds,

Speaker 1 and you're you're right back to sleep. They're available only on our premium feed.
So go sign up. It's so cheap, 10 cents a day, and the first month is on us.

Speaker 1 Find the link in our notes or at nothingmuchhappens.com.

Speaker 1 Now,

Speaker 1 I'm going to tell you a bedtime story.

Speaker 1 And it will occupy your mind enough to keep it from wandering, but not so much that it will keep you up.

Speaker 1 All you have to do is listen.

Speaker 1 I'll tell the story twice,

Speaker 1 and I'll go a little slower the second time through.

Speaker 1 This is a kind of brain training, so know that it will get better and better with time.

Speaker 1 Our story tonight

Speaker 1 is called

Speaker 1 The Cabin in Summer.

Speaker 1 And it's a story about days spent in the sunny garden

Speaker 1 and the shaded forest. It's also about lemon balm and raspberries, the cool water of the creek running over your ankles, mushroom hunting and threshold sweeping,

Speaker 1 and the wisdom of wild places handed down from one generation to the next.

Speaker 1 So lights out,

Speaker 1 devices down.

Speaker 1 You have looked at a screen for the last time today.

Speaker 1 You are about to fall asleep, and you will sleep deeply all night.

Speaker 1 Draw a deep breath in through the nose.

Speaker 1 Let it out with a sigh.

Speaker 1 Nice. Once more, breathe in.

Speaker 1 Let it all go.

Speaker 1 Good.

Speaker 1 The cabin in summer.

Speaker 1 Thank goodness for old trees.

Speaker 1 All around the cabin they stood tall and covered us in shade.

Speaker 1 Even on the warmest days of summer, they kept us cool.

Speaker 1 We could retreat inside

Speaker 1 after hours in the garden

Speaker 1 or long walks on the trails,

Speaker 1 and we'd instantly feel the relief

Speaker 1 of the dim rooms

Speaker 1 and the fresher air.

Speaker 1 And this summer was proving to be a warm one for sure.

Speaker 1 Our gardens were thriving from the sunny days.

Speaker 1 Our tomatoes particularly

Speaker 1 loved the high heat and abundant light.

Speaker 1 We'd planted basil around and among the tomato cages

Speaker 1 And every day I pinched them back

Speaker 1 to keep flowers away

Speaker 1 and more leafy growth coming.

Speaker 1 The zucchini and peppers were growing fast

Speaker 1 and the pumpkin patch was promising an exciting jack o' lantern carving season to come.

Speaker 1 Along the split rail fence at the garden's back,

Speaker 1 vines of wild raspberries grew,

Speaker 1 and most days I picked enough to fill a mug from the cupboard.

Speaker 1 Entwined with the vine,

Speaker 1 and growing in low mounds along the fence posts, was lemon balm,

Speaker 1 which I hadn't planted, but had somehow found its way here.

Speaker 1 Lemon balm reminded me a bit of mint,

Speaker 1 in the shape of its leaves,

Speaker 1 and even slightly in its fragrance.

Speaker 1 The leaves were crinkly

Speaker 1 and heart shaped

Speaker 1 and when I bruised them gently,

Speaker 1 they gave off the scent

Speaker 1 yes, of lemon,

Speaker 1 but something softer,

Speaker 1 like lemon zest,

Speaker 1 and grass and mint altogether.

Speaker 1 I'd been picking stems of it along with the raspberries,

Speaker 1 sometimes just to tuck behind my ear

Speaker 1 and smell as I worked,

Speaker 1 and sometimes to add to my iced tea.

Speaker 1 But also

Speaker 1 because for me

Speaker 1 it figured into a good night's sleep

Speaker 1 in plenty of traditions.

Speaker 1 Lemon balm was thought to lift hearts,

Speaker 1 to sweeten thoughts,

Speaker 1 and even dreams.

Speaker 1 So returning to the cool rooms of the cabin with my raspberries

Speaker 1 and my posy of herbs,

Speaker 1 I'd cut a few stems

Speaker 1 and tuck them into a little satchel.

Speaker 1 Nothing fancy.

Speaker 1 It could be a bit of cheesecloth,

Speaker 1 an old handkerchief, or a scrap of pillowcase.

Speaker 1 I'd tie it shut with a bit of twine

Speaker 1 and tuck tuck it under our pillows

Speaker 1 to ward off nightmares

Speaker 1 and bring us sweet dreams.

Speaker 1 Every few days I refreshed the herbs

Speaker 1 and I found the ritual soothing

Speaker 1 even if it wasn't exactly rational.

Speaker 1 I didn't need it to be.

Speaker 1 Work in a garden long enough,

Speaker 1 and you'll learn there are rhythms we hardly tap into,

Speaker 1 patterns unseen by most,

Speaker 1 that there are more things in garden and woods than are dreamt of in most philosophy.

Speaker 1 And it made me happy to do something small,

Speaker 1 to take care of us. It made me smile, and maybe that was the magic of it.

Speaker 1 In the same vein, I'd set out two raspberries

Speaker 1 and a thimble full of water on the windowsill at night

Speaker 1 for the fairies, of course.

Speaker 1 And most mornings, the berries would be gone,

Speaker 1 the thimble tipped over and dry, except for the dew that had settled on it.

Speaker 1 I was betting I was making some starling or warbler happy with my evening traditions.

Speaker 1 But after all, birds are a sort of fairy, aren't they?

Speaker 1 There was also the creek to pay regular visits to.

Speaker 1 Sometimes we went all together, the dog as well.

Speaker 1 We'd walk the trails after dinner

Speaker 1 and hunt mushrooms that grew from the tree trunks,

Speaker 1 chaga

Speaker 1 and wood ears,

Speaker 1 and hen of the woods, or hens of the wood

Speaker 1 we weren't sure which.

Speaker 1 But often I went by myself.

Speaker 1 I loved listening to the babble of the water,

Speaker 1 watching it as it rushed over rocks

Speaker 1 or spiraled in eddies.

Speaker 1 Stepping into it on a hot day with my bare feet,

Speaker 1 feeling the cool water

Speaker 1 rising up over my ankles.

Speaker 1 It was a heavenly feeling,

Speaker 1 and one that washed most thoughts from my head.

Speaker 1 There is a saying

Speaker 1 that a person can't step into the same river twice,

Speaker 1 for the river has changed, and so has the person.

Speaker 1 And that did feel true each trip out.

Speaker 1 Even when the summer days repeated themselves with familiar actions, meals, and rhythms,

Speaker 1 I was different,

Speaker 1 and so was the water.

Speaker 1 And it made me think of another bit of folklore.

Speaker 1 I must have learned it when I learned to use lemon balm and feed the fairies.

Speaker 1 The advice was that trees are keepers,

Speaker 1 and rivers are carriers.

Speaker 1 So tell the trees the things you need held,

Speaker 1 your secrets and memories,

Speaker 1 the puzzles you haven't worked out yet,

Speaker 1 and the wishes that weren't quite fully formed.

Speaker 1 They would hold them for you.

Speaker 1 But tell the water what you wanted carried away,

Speaker 1 your worries and cares,

Speaker 1 things you were done with, and didn't serve you any longer.

Speaker 1 In the evenings when the dishes were drying on the drain board,

Speaker 1 and the fireflies were beginning to shimmer in the yard,

Speaker 1 before I set out the berries,

Speaker 1 or we laid our heads down on our lemon-scented pillows,

Speaker 1 I'd do one last bit of housekeeping,

Speaker 1 one more traditional practice that had been handed down to me.

Speaker 1 When we were done reading our books on the porch,

Speaker 1 when the dog had made his last trip out into the grass,

Speaker 1 I'd be the last to go in.

Speaker 1 I kept a broom in the corner of the porch,

Speaker 1 and I took a moment to sweep the steps and the threshold.

Speaker 1 I swept in counterclockwise circles,

Speaker 1 a pattern called Wittershins.

Speaker 1 And as I went,

Speaker 1 I cleared the day out of my mind.

Speaker 1 I swept out the cobwebs

Speaker 1 and spare used-up thoughts,

Speaker 1 any unkindness,

Speaker 1 or uncharitable thinking.

Speaker 1 And once the threshold was clean,

Speaker 1 I turned the broom over so its bristles faced up

Speaker 1 and propped it back in the corner.

Speaker 1 The upturned broom was meant to protect us from any unwelcome visitors in the night

Speaker 1 and was a habit I'd learned directly from my grandmother.

Speaker 1 She'd even used it when she was ready for a house guest to be on their way.

Speaker 1 She'd send me into her cleaning cupboard to stand the broom up on its end.

Speaker 1 And within ten minutes, sure enough,

Speaker 1 we would have the house to ourselves again.

Speaker 1 I often thought of her as I stepped inside and closed the door on the night.

Speaker 1 Grateful for the wise women who passed down ways to send worries into water,

Speaker 1 wishes into action,

Speaker 1 and to build a safe place

Speaker 1 to lay your head

Speaker 1 and dream in peace.

Speaker 1 The Cabin in Summer

Speaker 1 Thank goodness for old trees

Speaker 1 All around the cabin

Speaker 1 They stood tall

Speaker 1 and covered us in shade

Speaker 1 Even on the warmest days of summer,

Speaker 1 they kept us cool.

Speaker 1 We could retreat inside

Speaker 1 after hours in the garden

Speaker 1 or long walks on the trails,

Speaker 1 and we'd instantly feel the relief of the dim rooms,

Speaker 1 the fresher air.

Speaker 1 And this summer was proving to be a warm one,

Speaker 1 for sure.

Speaker 1 Our gardens were thriving from the sunny days.

Speaker 1 Our tomatoes, particularly, loved the high heat

Speaker 1 and abundant light.

Speaker 1 We'd planted basil

Speaker 1 around and among the tomato cages,

Speaker 1 and every day I pinched them back

Speaker 1 to keep their flowers away,

Speaker 1 and more leafy growth coming.

Speaker 1 The zucchini and peppers

Speaker 1 were growing fast

Speaker 1 And the pumpkin patch was promising

Speaker 1 an exciting jack o' lantern carving season to come

Speaker 1 Along the split rail fence

Speaker 1 at the garden's back

Speaker 1 Vines of wild raspberries grew.

Speaker 1 And most days I picked enough to fill a mug from the cupboard,

Speaker 1 entwined with the vine

Speaker 1 and growing in low mounds along the fence posts was lemon balm,

Speaker 1 which I hadn't planted,

Speaker 1 but had somehow found its way here.

Speaker 1 Lemon balm reminded me a bit of mint

Speaker 1 in the shape of its leaves

Speaker 1 and even slightly in its fragrance.

Speaker 1 The leaves were crinkly

Speaker 1 and heart-shaped,

Speaker 1 and when I bruised them gently,

Speaker 1 They gave off the scent,

Speaker 1 yes, of lemon,

Speaker 1 but something softer,

Speaker 1 like

Speaker 1 lemon zest

Speaker 1 and grass and mint altogether.

Speaker 1 I'd been picking stems of it along with the raspberries,

Speaker 1 sometimes just to tuck behind my ear

Speaker 1 and smell as I worked,

Speaker 1 and sometimes to add to my iced tea,

Speaker 1 but also because,

Speaker 1 for me,

Speaker 1 it figured into a good night's sleep

Speaker 1 and plenty of traditions.

Speaker 1 Lemon balm was thought to lift hearts,

Speaker 1 to sweeten thoughts, and even dreams.

Speaker 1 So returning to the cool rooms of the cabin with my raspberries

Speaker 1 and my posy of herbs,

Speaker 1 I'd cut a few stems

Speaker 1 and tuck them into a little satchel.

Speaker 1 Nothing fancy.

Speaker 1 It could be a bit of cheesecloth,

Speaker 1 an old kerchief,

Speaker 1 or a scrap of pillowcase.

Speaker 1 I'd tie it shut with a bit of twine

Speaker 1 and tuck it under our pillows to ward off nightmares

Speaker 1 and bring us sweet dreams.

Speaker 1 Every few days I refreshed the herbs,

Speaker 1 and I found the ritual soothing,

Speaker 1 even if it wasn't exactly rational.

Speaker 1 I didn't need it to be.

Speaker 1 Work in a garden long enough,

Speaker 1 and you'll learn

Speaker 1 there are rhythms we hardly tap into,

Speaker 1 patterns unseen by most.

Speaker 1 There are more things in garden and woods

Speaker 1 than are dreamt of in most philosophy.

Speaker 1 And it made me happy to do something small to take care of us.

Speaker 1 It made me smile,

Speaker 1 and maybe that was the magic of it.

Speaker 1 In the same vein,

Speaker 1 I'd set out two raspberries

Speaker 1 and a thimble full of water on the windowsill at night.

Speaker 1 For the fairies, of course.

Speaker 1 And most mornings, the berries would be gone.

Speaker 1 The thimble tipped over and dry,

Speaker 1 except for the dew that settled on it.

Speaker 1 I was betting I was making some starling or warbler

Speaker 1 happy with my evening tradition.

Speaker 1 But after all,

Speaker 1 birds are a sort of fairy, aren't they?

Speaker 1 There was also the creek to pay regular visits to.

Speaker 1 Sometimes we all went together,

Speaker 1 the dog as well.

Speaker 1 We'd walk the trails after dinner and hunt mushrooms that grew from tree trunks,

Speaker 1 chaga

Speaker 1 and wood ears,

Speaker 1 and hen of the woods, or

Speaker 1 hens of the wood.

Speaker 1 We weren't sure which

Speaker 1 but often I went by myself.

Speaker 1 I loved listening to the babble of the water,

Speaker 1 watching it as it rushed over rocks or spiraled in eddies,

Speaker 1 stepping into it on a hot day with my bare feet,

Speaker 1 feeling the cool water

Speaker 1 rising up over my ankles,

Speaker 1 it was a heavenly feeling,

Speaker 1 and one that washed most thoughts from my head.

Speaker 1 There is that saying

Speaker 1 that a person

Speaker 1 can't step into the same river river twice.

Speaker 1 For the river has changed,

Speaker 1 and so has the person.

Speaker 1 And that did feel true

Speaker 1 each trip out.

Speaker 1 Even when the summer days repeated themselves with familiar actions, meals, and rhythms.

Speaker 1 I was different,

Speaker 1 and so was the water.

Speaker 1 It made me think of another bit of folklore.

Speaker 1 I must have learned it when I learned to use lemon balm and to feed the fairies.

Speaker 1 The advice was that trees are keepers,

Speaker 1 and rivers are carriers.

Speaker 1 So tell the trees the things you need held,

Speaker 1 your secrets and memories,

Speaker 1 the puzzles you haven't worked out yet,

Speaker 1 and the wishes that weren't quite fully formed.

Speaker 1 They would hold them for you.

Speaker 1 But tell the water what you wanted carried away.

Speaker 1 Your worries and your cares.

Speaker 1 The things you were done with

Speaker 1 and didn't serve you any longer.

Speaker 1 In the evenings,

Speaker 1 when the dishes were drying on the drain board,

Speaker 1 and the fireflies were beginning to shimmer in the yard,

Speaker 1 Before I set out the fairy's meal

Speaker 1 or we laid our heads down on lemon scented pillows

Speaker 1 I'd do one last bit of housekeeping,

Speaker 1 one more traditional practice

Speaker 1 that had been handed down to me

Speaker 1 When we were done reading our books on the porch,

Speaker 1 and the dog had made his last trip out into the grass,

Speaker 1 I'd be the last to go in.

Speaker 1 I kept a broom in the corner of the porch,

Speaker 1 and I took a moment to sweep the steps

Speaker 1 and the threshold.

Speaker 1 I swept in counterclockwise circles

Speaker 1 a pattern called Wittershins.

Speaker 1 And as I went, I cleared the day out of my mind.

Speaker 1 I swept out the cobwebs

Speaker 1 and spare

Speaker 1 mused up thoughts

Speaker 1 any unkindness

Speaker 1 or uncharitable thinking.

Speaker 1 And once the threshold was clean,

Speaker 1 I turned the broom over

Speaker 1 so its bristles faced up

Speaker 1 and propped it back in the corner.

Speaker 1 The The upturned broom was meant to protect us

Speaker 1 from any unwelcome visitors in the night,

Speaker 1 and was a habit I'd learned directly from my grandmother.

Speaker 1 She'd even used it

Speaker 1 when she was ready

Speaker 1 for a house guest to be on their way.

Speaker 1 She'd send me into her cleaning cupboard

Speaker 1 to stand the broom up on its end.

Speaker 1 And within ten minutes,

Speaker 1 sure enough,

Speaker 1 we'd have the house to ourselves again.

Speaker 1 I often thought of her

Speaker 1 as I stepped inside

Speaker 1 and closed the door on the night,

Speaker 1 grateful for the wise women

Speaker 1 who passed down ways to send worries

Speaker 1 into water,

Speaker 1 wishes into action,

Speaker 1 and to build a safe place

Speaker 1 to lay your head

Speaker 1 and dream in peace.

Speaker 1 Sweet dreams.