My First Official Three Days of Being a Country Digger

'Tis a strange thing, accomplishing a dream. We are here: on our land, in our trailer, unemployed. Our dream (well, not exactly our dream). We did it. We actually cussing did it. For three nights now we've watched the sun melt down the surrounding hills without hearing a single city noise (plenty of cows, foxes, donkeys and birds though). We've gone to sleep with all windows swung wide open, not even bothering to lock our door. We have risen every morning, had coffee under our big ol' oak tree, and then headed out to our respective areas on the property to sweat and dig and shovel. I've planted lettuce, attempted to build a duck pond (horrible turn-out), raked my ass off, planted four trees, pulled down a fence, and shoveled decomposed granite like a madman. Oh, and we went to the feed store and bought our very first bale of hay! If there is a heaven, this is ours.

But still there is a dichotomy of emotions running through me right now. Sorrow is one. My dear friend, Jess, hosted a going away party for me the night before I left, and the loss of the closeness of friends is still fresh inside of me. Knowing you can meet up with someone at any time if you need to is something I no longer have. And that is OK, but sad at the same time.
Fear is another one. Fear seems to want to jump down our throats at every moment, and if we drop our guard, it's terribly easy to be pulled under. Fear that I won't be able to make a living is the one I've lost sleep over for the past month. I just up and quite the only career I've ever had, and a career that made me blissfully happy. I have no idea what comes next for me, and now that I'm here, it's becoming more and more clear that "working and living off one's land" stopped being realistic with The Little House on the Prarie (God did Michael Landon make that look awesome). In my stronger moments, which thankfully are more often than not, I know I will find something that will bring me joy and cold hard cash, but I can't lie and say that pursuing this dream isn't the scariest thing I've ever done.

Anywho, let's get down to what's really interesting: the ducks. Since they are my very first farm animals, and I know absolutely NOTHING about them, maybe one of you will see these photos and be able to help. One of them is a bit smaller than the other, but what's worrisome is that her face seems to have failed to grow feathers. It's actually pretty freaky looking, and I'm going to guess, not normal (considering her sister has facial feathers and they are the same age and born of the same mother). So if you look at her and know a thing or two about feathering, do tell. It would be a crying shame if my very first farm animal loses all her feathers and ends up bald. What in the hell would she tell the chickens?

Feather-full Face

Featherless Face

No Caption Necessary

I Just Watched a Bee Dying

No matter how small a life, I still feel terribly helpless watching it come to an end. I am freakishly uncomfortable with death; why or how this came to be I do not know.

What I do know is that country living ought to do the trick. Yesterday there was a dead owl in front of my parents' house (killed, we think, by our resident family of red foxes), and the first official night i stayed there, the neighbor's horse died. And I mean, I walked over to feed it some hay because it was hanging by our fence, and something was terribly wrong. He was sweating heavily, breathing hard, stumbling, sighing, and not in a good way. Long story short, the very eve that I introduce myself to this horse ("Yeah! We have a horse next door!"), the freaking thing dies. It was horrible. And it happened so fast. If I had to write a dialogue about it, it would go something like this:
     "Oh, look, Jack! The neighbor's horse came to introduce himself. I'm gonna go feed him some      hay."
     Camie approaches the horse, pets it's nose and notices it's not looking too good.
     "Hey, mom. Come look at him. He's not looking too good. Maybe bring over an apple; all horses love apples."
     "Hmmm, he's not eating the apple either. Oh no, he just fell over. Shit! He can't get up. What do we do?"
     Camie goes and tells the one neighbor they've met across the street what's going on. Thirty minutes after Camie excitedly first meets the horse, he's dead. Turns out, after 27 years of living, he chooses to die the same hour he meets her.

Yes, I do believe country living will indeed help get me more acquainted with death. I can't say I'm excited about that.

Pole Barn and Garden Area Before

And After – though we’re still not done done.

It's Been Three Weeks and Another Knee Surgery

After 11 looooooong days of post-surgery, I just drove up to the farm this afternoon (though my surgeon would literally have a heart-attack if he knew I made that drive).  Wait.  Before I keep writing that magical word, farm, I need to clarify that right now we have absolutely nothing that qualifies us as a farm. It's more of a dream term, if you will, meaning that I am choosing to believe that if I say it enough, I will actually end up with a farm. And to be fair, I did tell my students it was a farm, and now we have two ducks. Naysayers beware.

So, I drove the four hours and fifteen minutes up the 101 North today to surprise J who has been living on our land now, more on than off, for 2 months. He came down to help me convalesce from my second knee surgery for a few days and then came back up. I can't blame him. My parents' neighborhood blows compared to Eureka Lane. Oh yeah, that's our new street. How freaking fitting after a three year search. Actually, the real reason I drove up impromptu-like is that he forgot his two chocolate chip cookies from Pain du Monde. I'm not sure there is another human being in the entire world who loves his P.d.M. cookies like J does. He drove away at 4:00 am and when i awoke hours later to find his cookies still tucked away in my purse, I almost shat myself. That is the terror someone can instill in another when cookies mean that  much. I'm not joking. So I immediately decided that there is only one thing a kick-ass wife can do, and that is to hand deliver the sacred sweets to my lover myself. Boy was that the right choice to make. :)

I have a bunch of pictures to upload  to show the before and afters of one of our smaller fields, and I will do that in the morning. But for now, we are about to pour ourselves a glass of Riesling, sit back in our chairs, and watch the sun slowly sink behind our neighbor's wheat field. I still can't believe we did it. God bless listening to your heart.

We raise our glass to you Ms Velin. We love you.

My 10th graders just played this for me during our last class together. They restore my faith in humanity and the power of love. :)

I Don't Normally Do This, But...

http://youtu.be/tzrRmB40l00
If we want to change the way humans treat one another, perhaps we need to start with how we treat "the least of these." We have deadened our outrage and arrested our compassion, all in the name of food. How truly heartbreaking.

Dummies Guide to Catching Dinner

Step One: Find way into corner of barn

Step Two: Slither up barn door

Step Three: Climb to the top of the barn door

Step Four: Realize that due to lack of arms, baby bird snacks are just out of reach. Valiant effort, snake.

Barn Befores

So here are a few pictures of our future home on the range. As you can see, it's just shy of livable in its present state. I'm driving up this weekend so we can lay out our renovation plan, and then, depending on how far a hundred bucks gets us, J may or may not be able to camp inside come next week. He's not real worried though, since he's been RVing in the driveway for several days now and thinks he can easily do another month in that lap of luxury. I wonder if he could just drive the Airstream right on into the barn? Talk about the best of both worlds.


There She Is: The Magnificent White Beaut (until we paint her red)



A lot of imagination is needed to see what we see in this photo.

Front doors and downstairs. Bugs and small critters may be a problem given these doors don't quite close.

Downstairs. And tractor oil stains, which I think we'll keep. Adds character.

 Though we are free spirits, we've decided that we do, indeed, need more than a few wall studs separating the bathroom from everything else. Especially since the kitchen will run the length of the same side of the room. That could get really awkward.

So far, the raddest part of the barn: the upstairs oil drum heater. I know it's easy to assume it's just decorative, but it's not.

Upstairs. My favorite part, besides the heater? The lonely sink on the left.



Upstairs front view. When it grows up, it wants to be my writing room.






We Got It!

We are officially landowners in Templeton, CA (next to Paso Robles)! Well, barn owners, too, but once I post photos of our will-be barn home, you'll see why I don't add that in with exuberance just yet. Yet. But once we're done with that puppy, I'll splash it all over this blog like a gigolo splashes on aftershave.

Out with the Old, In with the ????

Last porch-sitting at 513 Goldenrod (notice knee brace...still)

Our pod and old ford truck loaded up.
 Ours is the tiny place between the two big ones.

First, J and I officially moved out of our Corona del Mar beach cottage at 8:00 pm last night and it was incredibly bittersweet. We had three amazing years in that home together, and will miss it dearly, along with our landlords, believe it or not. ;) They are worth staying alone! But, we set this date so we would continue to pursue our dream of working on and owning our own land, so off we go.


Second, we just opened escrow (yesterday morning!) on a 5 acre property (with main house, barn, pool, spa, chicken coops and lots of animal pens) in Templeton, CA, and if it closes by May 18 - not an easy task - it's ours! Here is the driveway, one of the pastures with one of the chicken coops, and a few of the current residents:

Third, I'm staying with my parents until the school year is over and until my other knee rehabs from surgery in June. J and both dogs head up to the trailer park in a few days. If we get this property he will only take up residence there for a few weeks. If we don't, it could be months. Ah, the adventure continues...