Friday, October 19, 2007 – Official Homesteaders

Sometimes it’s go great I want to take a picture – sometimes we want to cry. Our kitchen turned out to be beautiful, considering it’s comprised of the cheapest cabinets, laminate flooring, range hood and countertop we could find. The two stainless steel appliances (our fridge and washing machine, bought for the long-term) look a little out of place, but all in all it’s a truly beautiful “room” in our wee home.

The bathroom is similarly attractive – lots of cabinets for storage space, everything fits nicely, etc. At the same time, our shower continues to leak despite multiple caulk/silicone applications, and our toilet has decided that it doesn’t like flushing. We finished installing the wall cabinets in the bathroom last night (well, Brock did – I was holding his chair and passing him the level, etc.) and it was a paradox that we’ve come to expect: huge satisfaction in getting something DONE, and it looking surprisingly great . . . but some fatal flaw would require more work, more inconvenience, and possibly more expense.

I think the big lesson I/we have learned this summer is that the housing market is not designed for spontaneity. It’s best to hire a contractor when you build a home. And in order to actually GET a contractor, you need to plan years in advance. Brock and I are rather impetuous when it comes to our Dreams, and I don’t regret acting on our “let’s farm NOW” desires, but it all would have been (and would be!) much, much easier to get someone else with experience to do the work for us, whom we can hold accountable when something goes awry.

If we survive this (emotionally, physically and financially), we will be Super Heroes.

Some happy thoughts:
1. every morning I wake up to a backyard covered in mist, with the brightest stars I’ve ever seen still in the sky.
2. we have deer that visit us (and eat our carrot tops), which isn’t a good thing farm-wise but is still beautiful when I see them.
3. the birds are incredible. They’re all flying south now, in their big Vs and Ws, and I have to stand still and watch each time. (Ravens suck, though.)
4. each room/section we complete looks WAY better than we expected.
5. Peter loves his fresh cilantro and carrots.
6. I’ve learned how to use tools (e.g. skil saw, drill, electric screwdriver, table saw).
7. Brock and I have never slept so well.
8. I have arm muscles.

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Sunday, October 21, 2007 – Official Homesteaders, Back From Vancouver

We went to a wedding in Vancouver this weekend, which was wonderful but left us little time to progress with our to-do list here. When we got home around 2pm today I crashed immediately and slept until it was just getting dark out. Meanwhile Brock was Super Productive (yay!).

Saturday morning at 3:00 we woke up to our septic system’s alarm going off (I just thought the overhead fan was being oddly noisy). The heavy rain this week had flooded the tanks, which apparently need to be sealed up better. It was a stressful morning, me calling everyone even remotely septic-y, trying to find someone to diagnose our alarm while Brock risked sinking into the mire of our backyard, digging a trench for the water to follow away from our septic tanks.

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Thursday, October 25, 2007 – Hardworking Garlic Farmers

I got distracted last entry and couldn’t finish, so before something else needs attention here are some crucial updates:

1. toilet works fine. We called the plumber that first day and he pointed out we hadn’t switched the septic pumps on, thusly the toilet could not flush properly. Felt like gomers. Cost $77 for the plumber’s house call. Dammit.
2. septic is still not perfect, but Steve told us how to disable the alarm so at least we aren’t being woken up by sirens in the middle of the night. They need to come out asap and re-seal the tank, before it rains and becomes a mud bog again.
3. we’ve submitted our “farm development plan.” If our property is considered a farm (normally, this means we’ve grossed min. $2,500 from produce, eggs, etc.), our annual property taxes are $85. If we aren’t considered a farm, property taxes for our 10 acres of prime land = $24,000. Holy shite. The solution for new farm owners like us, who haven’t grossed $2,500? We had to submit a farm development plan, essentially promising that we intend to be Real Farmers in 2008. If our application isn’t convincing enough, we’re screwed.
4. pastoral life is so fun and relaxing . . .
5. I planted garlic tonight!!!!!!!! I’ve been meaning to do it for weeks — the traditional garlic planting date is October 15 (at midnight, naked, according to the garlic guy at the farmer’s market), but we’ve been too busy and haven’t had enough daylight to plant. I did it asap after work today, and got a whole 15-ish ft. row planted. Let’s do math:
   10 bulbs x 6/7 cloves each + perfect growing conditions = 60/70 new bulbs of garlic per row. That means I planted enough garlic to last us a year (or more) within an hour. That seems bizarrely efficient to me, especially as a once-government-employee. I still have 30 or so bulbs left (= 210 more bulbs!!!!!!), and anything else I plant (assuming perfect growing conditions) is for sale or gifts, etc. The best part is that garlic requires NO WATERING. Honestly. That’s what the farmer guy said. I just plant the cloves (with about 6 inches of shit/manure underneath) and let them hibernate over winter. Etc. That’s my kind of plant!
6. Oh, and we got our well water tested. It’s bad. The “colliform” count is supposed to be zero, and ours is 707. That concerned me, but “colliform” isn’t poop or anything (there’s no ecoli or fecal matter), it’s just dead plant matter. So I’m trying to think of it like soup. All our neighbours have perfect water, so it has to be the well or water lines that are contaminating everything. Brock’s dad suggested we let the water run for a day or more, to clear it out, so we’ll do that before anything complicated/expensive. (Doesn’t that seem weird, when we’re all so used to paying for our water usage? I’m water wealthy. I’m a water glutton.)

ANYhoo, I think those are all the crucial info bits. I keep leaving loose ends in my entries, which must make it sound like we’re living in a hovel with no working toilet. Let me assure you, our toilet is fine, it’s the water that’s killing us.

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Sunday, October 28, 2007 – Sunday Dinner After a Weekend on the Farm

Happiness = this life.