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Treehouse + Cabin



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Hold please. I gotta go wash my hands again. 

The world feels so upside down and none of us are sure what to think, so we thought we’d give you something ahhhhh to think about.

Comfy. Cozy. Loungewear. That’s what this post is all about.

That, and half written grammatically incorrect sentences. And how I got punked by a racoon, fell in a river and got locked in a hut.

Here we are.  Our imperfect selves.  Shopping at the grocery store in our hazmat suits. It feels like April 74th. The only road trip we’re taking is down the road, and tripping.


What are you up to these days?

I’m working from the cabin… buried deep within my sofa with half eaten potato chips on my shirt and chip dip on my sleeve. Why did that sentence just make me drool? Who am I right now? Also, my butt looks like a pancake. 

Annnnnnnd it’s cold in the cabin. My nipples are exhausted.

Lately, I’ve been forcing myself to go outside and walk in the forests and fields of our property, and remind myself that the sky is …in fact… not falling. 

I don’t want to brag, but I’ve walked 3 times in three weeks.

So far, I’ve fallen in our river, witnessed a drunk racoon, and inadvertently locked myself in a hut.


Dead. Gonzo.

You’re calling me a loser in your head right now, aren’t you? Wait. It gets worse. You’re like, really? I thought this fiasco was over.

I went for a pajama-clad-parka-wearing (how’s that for a visual?) walk in our backyard forest and drank beer (yeah, I stashed one in my pocket, because that is what this grown ass adult does in a crisis.)

Like the pajama and parka visual wasn’t horrific enough. I had to top it off with a beer in my pocket.

You’re like.. “my eyes, my eyes!” I can’t unsee that.

Uhm. It’s gets miles worse.

First. I sat on a rock pondering what kind of DIY craft I could do with moss. Who does that? Don’t answer that. It wasn’t a real question. As I sat there thinking about my stoopid imaginary moss craft, I spotted a very happy drunk racoon, sunning himself. He stood up, wobbled, scratched himself like a drunk man in a pub and then stood on his head.   Someone furry ate a few too many fermented apples. And it wasn’t me and my furry unshaved anklets.

Things get weird in the countryside, don’t they?

Hold on. They get weirder.

As if, right? Yup.

I almost died. In an efffffing hut.

Day 2 of my walkfest.

I thought I should try another torture session walk, and check on the raccoon <— My new best friend. He had sobered up and toddled off. Phew. Safe and sound. All clear. I meandered like my 102 year old self, through the fields and forests to our sons hunting hut at the back of our 100 acre property. I was in. All in, on this 3743 mile walk to nowhere-ville.

Note to self: I effffing hate hunting. I mean, I’m an almost-every-once-in-a-while-sometimes-vegetarian. But I super love my son, and his tiny homemade hut. That wee hut suddenly looked like heaven on earth. A nice escape from the cold.

I had this picturesque vision in my head. I could walk in the hut and be transformed. Maybe I could even look like my friend Rachel, walking into our treehouse laTREEn bathroom. My imagination is crazier than a twirly straw and I’d obviously, unequivocally lost my mind at this point, because I did not look like this going into the hut….

The lies I tell myself. I was, in fact, wearing my two day old pajamas, parka, rubber boots and had one mitten. I know. I know. STAP IT.

Guess what happened next?

I sat in the hut for a good long time thinking that life was pretty great. It was confirmed. The sky had, in fact, not fallen.

I sat a little longer. And had a really big cry. The thing is, I’ve been so sad about Michaels health. Cancer is horse shit. Things had been taking a downturn in his cancer rollercoaster. I worry what my life would be like without him in it. I felt sorry for myself and my hut-like fashion statement, all at once. No really. I’m a hot mess sometimes.

life in a hut

Then. I got ready to leave. I turned the handle to the door, and the outside part of the door handle fell off. The handle fell offfffffff. BOOM. Handle on the ground. I was locked in. I stood there wondering if this was a symbol of my life. I perpetually feel like I’m a piece of cheese sliding off a cracker.


I die. I guess this is my forever life now. Living in a forest. For the rest of f.o.r.e.v.e.r.

Can we just talk about the fact that I was locked in that mother-f*cker room for a good long time?

Legit. A loooooooong time.

I FaceTimed my son.

No answer. I wrote a will.

I carved LYNNE WAS HERE on the wall, with my imaginary pocket knife that I didn’t bring with me. I have my regrets. Too many few to mention.

I googled sumo wrestling and door kicking.

Because I’m obvs a total weirdo : truth is, I’d actually fallen in love with the wee homemade hut my son had made, and the escape it gave me for a hot minute. But then, after I discovered that I couldn’t escape my escape hut (wait, where were we?)… it was game over. Let me tell you. There is a fine line between love and hate. Now you know why I need to travel with beer when walking our death trap property.

I was starting to worry that this would now be my forever home. I now hated the panic room I found myself hyperventilating in and wondering why I only brought one beer.

the great escape

I threw my body into the door. I horse kicked it from the rear. I took a run at it with all my might. I pounded. I got a sliver in my delicate Princess hand. I pleaded with the hut gods, and promised that I would start exercising and stop swearing … if …. just this once… I would be allowed to escape unscathed.

Ya no. Too late for hut prayers.

Then it happened. I kicked the door down. Yeah. I. Kicked. That. Wafer. Thin. Mofo. Door. Down.

It was a hollow, airy fairy door, and I don’t know why I’m admitting, in my outside voice, that the door was as light as a feather. Because I am super woman, hear me roar with my flimsy door. Still.

Just.Remember.This….Beyond the scary headlines, there is happiness and good news too.

I’m still here. Living my best scaredy-pants life with a husband with super shitty scary cancer, and kicking down doors. If I can do it, you can too.  Although, in hindsight… I did stare at a drunk racoon, fall in a river and inadvertently lock myself in a hut. My life choices are debatable sometimes.

Basically, what I am trying to say is this…..

When one door closes, another one opens. And if it doesn’t, kick that damn door down and drink a beer in your pajamas while you’re at it.


Annnnd if there is anything I know, it’s how to be comfy at home. In a cabin. In a hut or panic room. I’ve been practicing self isolation and living/working from home for a loooooong time. Uhhmm yeah, that’s my bra on the bed. I’m also the gal who sneezes three times right after she puts her mascara on. I, obvs, have this comfy thing down pat.

How I went for a walk, got locked in a hut and kicked a door down. In my pyjamas <—Then discovered my favourite loungewear. Because life is too short to wear uncomfortable clothes.

I feel like I’ve been training for this moment, my whole life. I know it’s possible to feel good (even during a crisis), and be comfy too.*

*Although the racoon may disagree.


What have I learned?

Happiness comes in the little things. Even in tragedy, the sun will still rise.  Find the good. Feel the love. Do the little things that make you feel good.


That, and life is just too short to wear uncomfortable clothes. We all need a little PICK ME UP these days, don’t we? Even internet window shopping & dreaming is a good pick me up. Tristan and I gathered up a few of our fave cozy things. Truth be told, we got so inspired internet window shopping, we bought some things too haha. *puts superwoman suit in online shopping cart, along with a bag of potato chips. The problem with the internet is that you can buy things in the middle of the night. If my husband asks, I bought nuttin’. Innocent. As usual. We cool? Good. Moving on.

Here is our all time fave curated collection of comfy cozy loungewear to wear around the house. Or backyard. Or for when you go for walks.

P.S. You can do your online shopping … wearing no makeup, no shirt, no problem. Try THAT in a mall.

P.S.S. I love you. That is all. What are you doing to cope? I need these details to thrive in life.


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  1. Meg Kubiak says:

    Lynn, love all things Knowlton. I remember reading on one of your posts about the best essential oil for living spaces. Can you enlighten me again, please?
    Much obliged,
    Meg Kubiak

  2. Sue says:

    Oh my you amazing person you! Sending love and hugs forever – you are awesome, amazing – did I say awesome!!! Life sucks at the moment – I am having a hard time staying upright – lost 8 family members – but we have to go on and you help so much I don’t think yo u know. Love to you, Michael and your amazing family. Thank you for making me smile, for making life seem possible. You are a warrior my friend 🥰

  3. Tanya Jankovic Ashton says:

    Hi Lynne,
    I Look forward and absolutely always love reading your stories. Your writing is so whimsical and profound. I laugh, I cry and smile and relate….. Thank you!

    Your story reminds me of an incident that happened to me many moons ago….I actually broke open a front door once in Mexico City. I was in a building searching for a particular apartment of a Particular therapist (that I desperately needed to see) 🥺 when I came upon a door that wouldn’t budge so I pushed my whole body into it when low and behold I realized that I had just flung open a front door into a private home with the whole family starring up at me as I them. All of us in disbelief at what had just happened. I uttered “lo siento” and ran off to Desperately find the therapist at that point. 🏃‍♀️ Priceless……
    I will never forget the looks on their faces. 😮😧😯😦

    Tanya Jankovic Ashton

  4. Karen says:

    Dear Lynne, Thanks as always for sharing so authentically and soulfully the snippets of your life! Your fears and your courage, your tears and your humour are welcome medicine and inspiration. I shared the link to your page with a dear friend whose partner has recently been diagnosed with cancer. He told me he tearfully read your entire blog and also watched the We CANcer Vive video–says he wants to re-read and re-watch both–your work is that powerful! Please never stop writing–your reach is beyond what you might ever know. I continue to walk our hundred acres too–and every time I return back with renewed gratitude and more peace. May you, Michael and your entire family be richly blessed. You are beacons of light and love! Karen oxoxoxoxox

  5. Maria from Oz says:

    I once locked myself in my workroom. this is a 1950’s fibro under the house workroom with one door in and one door out. I had had wine…I admit it…I was flaming pissed as a cockatoo munching on fermented grapes in the height of summer. I stared at that bloody deadlock and thought, “Why???? Are deadlocks called deadlocks….oh wait…Oh yeah…coz I am dead!” No phone, totally out of earshot of neighbours, getting dark…and cold. So, I did what any mature 40 something smart woman would do – bawled like a baby. Curled up on the floor, hit play on my sad song playlist on my ipod (it was a few years ago…bear with me!) and dreamed of all the things I SHOULD have done!
    then it hit me….D’oh brain! You have louvred windows you numbskull! I dusted myself off, climbed over 20 years worth of paraphenalia I still haven’t tidied to this day….and gently….oh so gently so as to not break a nail…(bugger the window panes!) and pulled them out….and made my great escape! Laughing like a demented hyena all the way into the house and then realised I had my house keys IN that same workroom! You know what? All I had to do was turn the deadlock latch to down and I would have not spent hours trying that handle to get out.
    Moral of this story? I still drink wine….No, wait…that wasn’t it! I learned that as you say, one door opens….etc….but in my case it was to stop assuming things and look at life differently. Plus never drink wine on an empty stomach and then try to do work. Uh uh, no how.

    COVID-19 in Australia. What can I say? Surrounded by bogons who think they are invincible. I stay at home at the best of times due to several autoimmune diseases and I pick up any thing going around like a mangy dog collects fleas. So for me, no biggie. Still work at home writing my novel, patting the cat, or tripping over it when the vino kicks in, listing on ebay. Selling vegetable seeds right now like hot cakes! Yippee! And generally annoying people with emails and texts.
    Hang in there, Lyn! Give Michael a kiss and a gentle hug from another cancer fighter, all the way from Australia!

  6. Gillian says:

    Good days and bad, some scary, some not. I haven’t had a bra or makeup on in the past five weeks. Sweats, big sweaters, thick socks and sometimes flip flops. I’ve bought things online because I had the time to actually look. A friend sent me 3 novels to help with my book addiction. I was so touched, I sobbed when I tried to thank her. I really want to hug my son and his wife, and my friends. I want to laugh til it hurts.
    I am blessed in so many ways, it’s incredible really when you slow down and actually take stock of your life and those in it.
    One last thing. I have curly, wavy crazy hair and I always wondered what it would be like to shave my head. Not completely mind you, but about 3/4″ everywhere. So, during one of my online shopping trips, I ordered the clippers. Yesterday I did the deed and I LOVE it. I figure that by the time this chaos is over, it’ll be back and I won’t get the weird looks at work. To be completely honest, I can handle the weird looks. I’m comfy in my skin, so be it.
    Love yourself, and I’m sorry that the cancer is kicking your family right now. Kick back, just like you did with the door. xoxo

  7. Larry says:


  8. Lin N says:

    I love you. You are an amazing woman. I laugh at what you write and feel very much for you & Michael and what you are going thru.
    I figured cuz today was Sunday, it’s a day of rest…so instead of tackling the 2,846 1/2 tasks on my To Do List, I slept in and lounged about in bed til shower time. Then I decided on an easy inside task, other than doing laundry. Been screwing all morning…well technically sorting a mess of screws. Xmas Gift card to Cdn Tire, bought an organizer with 400 little drawers (actually 43) My workshop must have had a bomb go off, cuz there’s crap everywhere. So today was the start of doing something small to start. It’s done and it felt good to start somewhere. Sorry I can’t relate to the parka & boots thing as I look out my window at the sun and blue sky here on Vancouver Island. I lived in Ontario, so I vaguely remember C.O.L.D 😱
    Big virtual HuGzZzZ to you and Michael. Keep doing what your doing and B.R.E.A.T.H.E and keep a beer in yer pocket….Lin

  9. Pgal says:

    Love you dear Lynne you never cease to amaze me. Pxo

  10. Bonbon242 says:

    Hey Lynne, coming from a wife of a cancer survivor I must say when I first read the words “stomp on cancer like it stole your wallet” it felt like someone had kicked IN the door of the hut I was hiding out in and dragged me out in to the bright light and fresh air. No one tells you how you are to approach cancer as a caregiver. There is no manual for handling this crap. “Smile and don’t let your loved one know your are struggling” is the worst advice ever uttered. It often feels like you could have a limb amputated in a living room full of friends and family and you’d be told to “suck it up”. And when the battle rages on post-treatment for 20 years you get pretty battle weary (think of the caregiver as the wimpy supply aide who did NOT enlist but got drafted anyway and yet is so ill-equipped to bear arms so his/her sole responsibility is to ensure those on the front lines of cancer have enough ammo in their guns to keep waging war with the BEAST). But the good news is this (and there is always good news): there exists enough forest hideaways and stumbling raccoons and hidden pocket beers for ALL of us frustrated, road-rashed, slightly cynical caregivers. We need to just keep finding reasons to break out of the hut!!! (even if it’s just to go back for more beer!) So thank you for all those fabulous visuals in this blog. I smiled dare I say giggled! both on the outside AND on the inside for the first time this week. Prayers for Michael. Must go work on my Ninja moves now.

  11. Gail or Aunt Gail says:

    I’m sure we’re related…your sense of life, humour, drama, are all within each others pockets! Snuggly up, eat chocolate and giggle!!!! Xxx love you Aunt Gail.

  12. Donna says:

    Next time girl…a beer for each pocket! Keep thriving. Gardens, paintings, walks are what keeps me going right now. And face time with the loved ones.
    Love you back.

  13. Barb says:

    Life isn’t much better in Ohio right now either….low and behold I found this hunk of blubber under my Bra this morning,gads I know it wasn’t there yesterday,must be making tooo much of your bread recipe dipping it in oil and etc. ,and washing it down with wine.. I guess that has to go….the way things are now in this world I should be happy that’s all I have to complzin sbout.

    From Barb another cancer survivor

  14. Bev says:

    Hi Lynn,sorry about the hut, door thing but would love to have seen a drunk skunk he sounds very happy….in this shite time of a pandemic that is cruel in its swathe across the world. I’ve started a memory quilt out of some of my daughters dresses when she was a toddler, it’s only taken me 20 years to get round to as she is 29 now!!!!
    I’ve done a postage stamp with little squares, now I have no frickin idea how to put them together but a lovely lady called Darlene on YouTube (she is American) filled me with hope when she said “if it’s a bit wiggly I dont give a damn” my kind of bird….if I ever finish it I’ll send a pic….
    Love to you, hope all goes well for hubby.
    Love Bev (uk) xx

  15. denise c. says:

    Too funny!! Got the visual loud and clear …. just like we were right there with you. Its gotta be true because you can’t even make this shit up????? Oh my – —hope you keep walking and keep experiencing all that life throws at you (I mean the good stuff). Hang in there. XOXO

    ( I Love cabins too 😉 )

  16. Michelle says:

    First time reader, dedicated now forever. You are right up there with my all time fave, Laurie Notaro!! That’s it just the 2 of you. Oh, and David Sedaris. That’s it. Just the three of you and I am happy and smiling. Thank you xo.

  17. Jocelyn says:

    A remarkable lady living a remarkable life…
    To be keeping your spirits up is an inspiration to many who could be going through similar experiences. Well, maybe not the locking in a hut with only one beer kinda stuff, but you know the stuff.
    Keep your spirits up Lynne!
    I enjoy the updates and your humour!

  18. Kim Faith says:

    OMG….you are toooooooo funny!!!! Thanks for making me actually laugh out loud as I read this guilt free in my comfy pyjamas. I have quilts, embroidery, knitting, to keep me busy and I may even finish the Family Favourites cookbook and get those gazillion photos organised. I’ve been in training my whole life for this moment. Hang in there.

  19. Kim Farrell says:

    Oh my goodness, you are an amazing, inspirational women. I just got finished reading your blog, and I am so impressed with your way of dealing with things. I love how natural and wonderful you are, and at the same time how brave you are going through with that bullshit cancer. I hate cancer too, because it has taken my mother and my 39 year old baby sister. I feel your pain, I understand your way of coping, and understand how you are scared of losing the man of your dreams. Please know we are all here for you and your lovely family. Your husband and you have made a beautiful life together, and raised beautiful children. There is alot to be thankful for. I know you are grateful….I see it in your home, and how you live your life. Keep blogging please, I love reading it. I also love reading Tristan’s as well. Keep going for walks c beer or wine, soak up the sun and breath the fresh air. We are all on this planet to enjoy what we have. Take care lovely.

  20. Elena says:

    Well said!❤️

  21. Christine says:

    You are the perfect person to have around in a crisis. You not only remember to bring the beer but, damn, you kicked down the f**king door. You have the best kind of spirit we all need right now! Then to top it off you curated the best list of comfy clothes to buy. Never met you but I love you! Continued on your post and fell in love with your counter stools. Thank you for this post today! Look forward to them and glad to hear Michael is still kicking cancer’s butt.
    It has been 7 weeks and counting and I have now had to share my computer with a cat who sits and waits for me to turn on squirrel videos. I am now drinking tequila at weird hours. Take care.

  22. Jan says:

    make your saying into a t shirt.. When one door closes, another one opens. And if it doesn’t, kick the damn door down and drink a beer in your Pj’s while your at it! I find myself thinking about your family alot lately.. I pray for you all and this cancer journey that is yours to bear. Your children look like great humans and your so lucky to have them and they you.. Keep writing.. keep walking and keep knowing that your followers are with you… stay well.. xo Jan

    • Lynne Knowlton says:

      Oh goodness Jan, you just made me laugh and cry all at once. This is becoming a habit for me. My emotions are like a teeter totter.

      I was thinking about getting a t-shirt that says my nipples are exhausted … but then realized I don’t own a tshirt … just pajamas. haha.

      Thank you so so so much for the positive thoughts and for thinking of our family. This cancer journey can be such a mofo but there are a lot of beautiful moments in between too.. so I am grateful. Grateful for the love and support.

      I truly believe our blog followers are our family too. It’s like we are one big gang that gives group hugs.

      Big love!
      Lynne xx

  23. Trudy Moye says:

    Thanks so much for the laugh. I haven’t tried walking in my Jammie’s and coat with a beer. I think that might be my goal today. There aren’t any hunting huts but a few deer stands in our woods. But I don’t like heights so I think I’m safe. Thanks again for sharing your adventures.

    • Lynne Knowlton says:


      Do it. You won’t believe the fun you’ll have. Deer stands could be fun too! I bet the view will be spectacular. No worries on the height. If you fall, you’ll have a parka to land on, and beer to soften the ego from the fall. teehee.

      Big love and happy adventures!

  24. Sally says:

    My new motto.

    When one door closes, another one opens. And if it doesn’t, kick that damn door down and drink a beer in your pajamas while you’re at it.

    Your post brought me so much joy. I wish I could wave a magic wand, but I’m sure you already thought of that. Stay well. One day at a time. We can all do that, right?

    Thank you! love your words and your style (still aspiring to both)

    • Lynne Knowlton says:

      Hi Sally!

      So sweet that you loved my words and style. Although, my walking attire style could use a bit of improvement. haha.

      I won’t be getting any fashion awards in the forest any time soon. LOL.

      Sending big love and happy door kicking!

      Lynne xx

      • Sally says:

        Sending you a big hug. Cancer sucks, really, really sucks. I think I might beat you on my walking attire, but I’m gonna keep that one to myself. 🙂

  25. Shawna says:

    Loved the story. I could so see that happening! I’ve thought about hiding for a while in one of our hunting huts but I will think twice about the risks with doing that! Haha! I have been trying to hug a baby sheep every day in my pj’s to help me feel like the world is going to be ok. Your homemade Baileys recipe has given me some comfort lately too. Wishing you all the best.

    • Lynne Knowlton says:


      It’s so nice to see you … even virtually… here on the blog.

      You are way smarter than me. You think twice before going into a hunting hut. ahhahahahaha. It’s danger play in there. LOL.

      So happy you love the Baileys recipe and you should know I am still super loving the pat in the pan pie crust you taught me. It’s soooo yum.

      Love ya!
      Lynne xx

  26. Jill says:

    You are fearfully and wonderfully made! ( unless of course you happen to be a serial killer, but I don’t think they wear pajamas)
    Sending love and prayers your way.

    • Lynne Knowlton says:

      Ohhhh Jill,
      You just made me laugh out loud. Thank gawd serial killers don’t wear pajamas. I’d be in big trouble. They are my stay at home uniform.

      Although, I am a cereal killer. I can scarf down a bowl of cereal in about 5 seconds flat.


  27. Linda C Johnston says:

    I read every word twice. I laughed, I cried a little (know all about that cancer shit), and connected with every single word. Just thought I would let you know that someone out here in cyber land really adores you. That would be me! Thank you for the reality and giggles. Be safe and stay healthy.

    • Lynne Knowlton says:


      You did? Ahhh you are too sweet. I LOVE writing (even though it takes me sooooo long… and I may be a senior citizen before I get my next blog post out) … wait. I am a senior. I digress. haha

      That is all to say, I laugh and cry when I write my blog posts too, so I’m glad you can feel all the feels with me. It is like therapy to me. Thank you for the cyber love. It realllllly means a lot to me. xoxoxo

      Stay safe happy and healthy too.
      Big love,
      Lynne xx

  28. Carole says:

    Hi Lynne, Michael and fam!
    Sometimes there truly is nothing more funny than real life! I know … we’ve raised 5 sons. I’ve often thought (way before reality TV was a thing) if a camera crew followed us around, we’d have a hit comedy on our hands.
    Thank you for sharing you and your fam with us … hugs and love to you all.

    • Lynne Knowlton says:


      FIVE SONS? That is so beautifully impressive. Four is for quitters, five is fantastic. haha. You are my super hero spirit animal. It is so funny, isn’t it… having kids? Never a dull moment. LOVE LOVE LOVE.

      Big love to you and the fam jam!
      Lynne xx

  29. Jen says:

    Your a wonderful trail blazer for your family. Keep carrying that torch!

    • Lynne Knowlton says:

      Knowing my luck, I’d torch my rubber boots carrying the torch. I’m basically a toddler. I shouldn’t be trusted with torches. haha. But thank you. That is so so so very sweet of you to say. Really.

      Big love!

  30. Rita Kolycius says:

    It’s me again Lynne. Just wanted to let u know that I
    AM PRAYING for Michael and his and your journey thru the fuck cancer. My sister and I are both survivors and Sisters United in prayer for others so we got u guys covered! Yes it’s hard. Just keep Prayin’ . He seems like a awesome guy….
    BTW. I am a pediatrician for special needs kids here in Collingwood. My sec and I pray together for our patients every day. Just saying..

    • Lynne Knowlton says:

      Hi Rita !!! You are so incredible and your sister sounds pretty freaking amazing too! Are you adopting any new sisters? haha. I’m in.in.in.

      On a crazy different note, I found an updated link for you for the coffee / milk frother.


      Hope that helps. And the shipping does say that it takes a month or so, but we received ours way quicker than that. Woot!

      Thank you for the love and prayers. xo

      Big love !!!