Michael, Richard's brother, shares Michael's Cabin origin story...

It’s a story worth telling just how this came to be. Two or three times per year I would escape New York City to spend a week or so with my brother and his family in Southwest Harbor, Maine. My brother’s office and shop are in a handsome building of graying cedar that abuts a small woodlot. For years, every time I visited, I would walk into that wooded patch drawn by some mysterious force.  In it, I began to imagine a cabin, a simple affair of reclaimed wood on posts, hot plate, outdoor shower and a wood stove. My brother and I would discuss this on every trip and agree to do it the next summer. Seven years later, he had an unexpected slowdown of work.  Trying to keep his carpenters busy with odd jobs but running out of tasks, one of the boys suggested, “Hey, what about Mike’s cabin?” I love that guy! My brother, being who he is, Mike’s cabin looks like something one might see in Architectural Digest, yet it sits so comfortably in that woodlot as if it were always there.  Once you enter it, you are hard pressed to find a good reason to leave. Though we still call it Mike’s Cabin, it’s too beautiful not to share.