The Status of Things

I guess we really meant it when we said we wouldn't update this blog until there was something to report. There's almost something, so what the heck, here's what we've been up to in the nearly two weeks we've been silent.

At 10:00 am this Monday morning we are meeting a surveyor at a piece of property we are in the process of buying. There is one last bit of boundary detail that we want hammered out before we affix our very important initials and signatures on a thousand pieces of paper that will finally make this 4.7 acre piece of land and lovely house our home. We made a ridiculous full-price offer on this place, and realized later that it was a little like proposing marriage after a single riotous speed date. But we've gone back and continued to fall in love with all the very good and beautiful things about the property and house. It's really surprising to us that we have no regrets about our impulsive affaires du coeur. Sometimes things just happen that way. It's very much like the beginning of our own marriage! So we proceeded.

Still that's all we're going to say about it at the moment. Things have a way of falling apart or blowing up or disintegrating even with the very best intentions. So, just wanted to say hello, we're still here on earth watching the birds, jack rabbits, and deer. All is well.

Above photo is of a Pileated Woodpecker we heard and then spotted on the property. A very good omen we thought. We're not even going to mention the heron we saw in the pond... Ooops!

California Dreamin'

I said to Roger the other day, "In three years, you know, you're going to be 70."

He said, "Yeah, and I'm homeless."

We laughed.

But it's true. Well, not in the tragic sense.

We have a splendid roof over our heads where we see these magnificent and silent pterodactyls from our front yard.

But we have no place that we call home. All of our stuff (we can hardly remember what most of it is anymore) is in storage. Stuff we packed more than a year ago. Stuff. And except for photos, all of it could disappear, and it wouldn't matter. How's that for a lifetime of collecting.

Here's what we miss: a garden to tend; the work on it that makes us weary to our bones; the quiet and night-time darkness of the countryside; neighbors who have been around and plan to stay; knowing which birds are local and which are the seasonal migrators; the place where the bobcat comes through the yard; the howl of the coyote; the moth at the window; the wildflower in the grasses. The familiar, and the thing that will catch our eyes.

So, our search for a home continues. Saturday and Sunday we went back to this place. Roger walked up into the redwood forested hillside to see the meadow from above. There's plenty more than this photo shows. Two more structures to my right, an acre of meadow to my left, a big old barn beyond the little building here, a creek and the private bridge that connects this land to the road. That's me there, dreamin'.

We're making an offer Tuesday morning. It's California, so nothing can be counted on. Wish us luck.

UPDATE: Roger spent the morning at the county building researching this property: what would it take to make any of these structures livable; which structures were permitted and which were not; the condition of the septic, etc. Turns out it would be outrageously expensive for us to undertake such a project. It might as well be raw land, and in that case it's way out of our price range. These four beautiful acres are on the market for $383,000.

Here are a few conversions to give you an idea of what $383,000 US dollars means:
430,745 Canadian Dollar
273,943 Euros
240,335 Pounds
488,157 Australian Dollar
415,247 Swiss Francs
18,238,792 IndianRupees
5,028,057 Mexican Peso

So, it's back to the drawing board. Still dreamin'.

The Latke Eaters' Impetuous Dream

I was going to write a post that sounded like this:

Hello, the blog you have reached is out of service and there is no new blog. If you think you've reached this blog in error, please hang up and try again.

or this:

Hi, you've reached Roger and Robin. We aren't updating the blog right now, but if you leave us a comment after the beep, we'll try to think of something to say as soon as we can. Thanks for calling...
We're floating. Off in our own little world.

We had a day last week without landline, cellphone, or internet service. It suited us perfectly in many ways. Someone had intentionally cut several A T & T fiber optic cables throwing three California counties into virtual black holes. It was, coincidentally, the day we had finally decided to write another offer on the house that we have been so freakin' ambivalent about. We have become desperate about finding a home, now that it is SPRINGSPRINGSPRING. So, we went back, looked again, and decided that we could maybe in our darkest moments put up with a house that has mind-numbingly negative feng shui. But then we found ourselves on a day without a single way to communicate that desire whatsoever, an impetuous dream suspended. I am not a reader of tea leaves, but I kept thinking that if I were to interpret this communication void that we found ourselves in, I would say that the entire universe had conspired to shout at us: DON'T BUY THAT HOUSE.
Well, we ignored all that and wrote an offer anyway the very next day. Desperate times call for drastic measures, right? Once we sent that offer in, we started to have second thoughts. Could we really make a go of it? What if Countrywide actually accepted our offer, that lifeless box with a roof would be ours. Oh shit. But Countrywide in its glorious, infinitely selfish wisdom countered us at full price.
They gave us a huge spectacular out, for which we joyously spread our wings, flew right through and never looked back.

So we went for a celebratory walk in the mountains and found beautiful damsel- and dragonflies out and about. We had a picnic of homemade potato latkes and applesauce in a fantastically quiet meadow. The clouds drifted slowly by, while the breeze fanned the tall spring grasses and purple lupines at our feet.

Such a joy is ours.

Like A One Night Stand

We fell in love. We really did. Just like that. We asked our real estate agent to show us this piece of land. Thirteen acres up past the redwoods to where it clears into a breathtaking panorama. It looks like just where want to live. We say, we don't care about the house. We care about the land. Is it beautiful? Oh my god, yes it is. Can we grow food here? Is the light right? We feel it in our hearts, our bones, our very breath... we could live here.

Of course there are a few things that need to be answered. You know, like who owns the crazy outbuilding on the property boundary. It has not one but two posters of four women with thong underpants riding Harleys? We hope it's on "our" property so we can reclaim the space and make it a workshop and garage. But we concede that the land is so beautiful, we'd almost consider putting up with a pervert with a heart of gold who collects scrap metal and fantasizes about make-believe women, to live there.

Our wonderful real estate agent spends two hours with us, as we walk and dream this land. It's on the market for $599,000. We could work that out if my brother and SIL will want to live there. We know they would like it once they drive up the winding ten miles to get there and find the saddle on this stunning piece of earth. It's so quiet there. Perfect for nesting down towards the end of life.

We go home with that sense of love. I tell Roger that looking for land is like wanting to fall in love. We open our hearts. We hope we ask the right questions. We believe in first impressions. Then our agent starts emailing us the news: The garage is owned by some guy who comes up once a week. The water supply is an unreliable hand-dug spring. The septic is handmade and has been cited twice by the county. The property has an earthquake faultline running through it.

Holy shit, says we.

And we are reminded of a poem by Lawrence Ferlinghettii:

See

it was like this when

we waltz into this place

a couple of Papish cats

is doing an Aztec two-step

And I says

Dad let’s cut

but then this dame

comes up behind me see

and says

You and me could really exist

Wow I says

Only the next day

she has bad teeth

and really hates

poetry

1. Top photo, the cabin
2. Bottom photo, the wood-fired sauna building taken from the cabin deck