Rain, Rain, Go Away!

The local weather reporters have been talking about drought for months.  They must not be local as locals know that if it doesn't rain much during the usual months, we'll get it in the unusual months.  May is turning out to be a very rainy month.  And all this rain is slowing down progress on everything.  If it was our usual California Mist (it missed California and hit Oregon -- my dad's corny joke), it wouldn't be such a problem.  But the rain has been pouring!  At least it doesn't pour non-stop.  The sun peeks out long enough to make the weeds grow faster.

I bought two small bottle-fed goats a few weeks ago with my stimulus money, but I can't bring them home until I get a small pen with a shelter built.  The goats have to be bottle-fed a couple more weeks and aren't ready yet to start weeding the property, but I'm still anxious to get things done.  The t-posts are in the ground.  Amanda hopes to get the gate posts in tomorrow and start on a shelter using recycled pallets.

The goat pen is by my sewing studio, which is in a state of chaos right now.  My parents' old oak desk was moved from the house to my studio a couple weeks ago.  A 3'x5' desk has a different footprint than a 2'x4' table!  So to make everything fit again, nearly all the furniture has to be rearranged.

The only thing I'm not relocating is my art desk.  You can't see it, but it's buried under the pile in the corner. 

My studio deck is almost as bad.

Looks like I'm a hoarder right now, but once everything is neatly organized it won't look so bad.


 

Fast Forward from Fall to Spring

I intended to keep this blog going over the winter, but my camera went missing.  After months of fruitless searching, I decided it was gone for good and bought a new camera.  It's the same brand and model name as my old camera, but the new camera is not the same as the old camera.  I liked my old camera better, but I'm adjusting to the new one.  Here are a few shots taken in March before spring shifted into gear:

This is the circular (sort of) driveway.

A view up the hill -- one of  my favorite spots on a hot summer day.

That's my container garden in the foreground.  The background shows what an unexpected 2 feet of snow can do to a metal frame carport.  I now call it the Kneeling Carport.  I used it for storage; guess I still do since there hasn't been time to remove things from it.  We stretched a new tarp over the top of it last fall and hoped winter would be mild. 

And here's a view of the northwest corner of the property.  See those hills in the far distance?  Winter is the only time of the year I get a view of those hills.  That's a neighbor's house in the center right -- not mine.  Here's my house:

It's a bit like Ma and Pa Kettle's place without the chickens and pigs!

This is what 6 weeks of sunshine and rain can do:

 The driveway. That's where my mail carrier leaves packages -- gives a new meaning to "drop ship."

 The garden: still a mess, but my blueberry bushes (in the green planters) are loaded!

 The southeast corner of the hill.

And a view due west.  The blackberry bushes have already obscured the view beyond.

I forgot to snap a view of the house, but it basically looks the same -- just has taller blackberry bushes.  😊

Why This is Home

I grew up on this property. When my parents died, this acre was left to me at their request. Things have changed a lot since my childhood. Trees barely taller than I was grew into giants, the house grew a second story, and at least a dozen other houses sprouted up in the fields nearby. The sunny acreage where I could see the drive-in movie screen 2 miles away has become shrouded in shade with a half-acre visibility during the summer when the maples are fully adorned with their huge leaves. In the shadiest areas, the blackberry vines now compete with moss and sword fern.

The house, which smelled of new lumber when I was really young, now smells musty, has floors that roll like waves, and makes enough creaky sounds to play a part in a scary movie. Even scarier are all the repairs that need to be done to make this house “normal.” Most of my relatives think the house is about to fall down and should therefore be torn down and replaced. I might have agreed until a tall tree fell on the house about five years ago. The house shook for a few seconds but it’s still standing. I’m thinking the old place has pretty good framework, it’s just everything else (like the plumbing and wiring and doors and windows and...) that needs repaired. It looks a mess, but I feel safe living in it. It’s not ideal, but until I find a buyer willing to pay enough that I can buy something more suitable for me, this old place is home.