Fall on the farm

And to think I was going to chop this glowing red tree down... it gets a reprieve due to its brilliant fall color. When it gets to size, it is going to be similar to the monster looming over my house on the opposite side.
Do you love fall, too? The light gets that long angle that filters things differently... sometimes I just have to stop somewhere and look at the loveliness - it is only here for a short time before cold descends.

Abandoned Farmhouse - NW Finn Hill and Urdahl Rd Poulsbo

While my son was brushing up on his batting for Little League this spring at a giant sports complex built in the middle of farmland, I walked across the road to acreage for sale. Set back on the property was this farmhouse... obviously abandoned and a little on the creepy side with the weather torn curtains and kicked-open door.
I have some sort of a weird obsession with old houses. They have stories in them that I want to know. There is something particularly disturbing to me when they are abandoned.
When I was walking through the weeds I thought : if my old house was in a more public place... in an area of development, it would have ended up like this. Once development starts on farmland, there is not alot of room for farming any longer. Some folks get cranky when they have to drive past cow smells, and no one likes the sound of roosters, especially the nutball type that sporadically crow 20 hours a day (which, honestly, seems to be the only kind I have ever had.) This vandalized building was once a loved home. There are chintz curtains moving against the broken glass, bright paint in the kitchen and still great condition furniture in the living room. Once an efficient working farmstead surrounded by level agriculture fields, it is now ready for the bulldozer and another big box store. This property is a stones throw from the Home Depot-Walmart-Starbucks-PetSmart-Office Max complex so I am sure the value is in development. And that is the rub. If I owned this, and it was worth 1.2 million as retail property and 440K as a farm... what would I do? What would you? I always like to think I would consider the longterm good of a rural community (which to me is more land, more agriculture - otherwise I would live in a city...) but self interest is a strong motivator.
For the record, I am not saying no to big box stores or to development, (stay tuned for my post of where I got a temp job) but am seriously questioning our need for a monster complex of them every 6.5 miles. I don't remember seeing "shopping" in Maslow's hierarchy of needs.

Where on Earth is Wally World

Pic: All Wallyworlds are in great seas of asphalt... this photo is taken on the hill above Walmart where the Home Despot, Petsmart, Big 5 and Office Max sit. Also, this terraced height is a great place to view fireworks.


When we still lived in Seattle, I would take the kids up to Port Townsend for the day. Port Townsend which was saved the wrecking ball and still retains its Victorian seaport downtown because for decades it was underpopulated, with no industry other than the pulp/paper mill and maritime. So, accordingly, why would development bother to tear down all the late 1800's structures if there was no money to be earned. The towns I see in the NW that still retain a beautiful historic downtown are the ones that had "no value" to construction investors during the hundred or so years following their original construction. Anywho off the soapbox...
We went up to Fort Worden, my fave park. While we were walking to the batteries, there was a fellow that pulled up and opened his trunk. He pulled out airplanes, as in the kind that make the buzz noise and fly around your head by radio control. I thought it a bit wierd (pedophile! luring my sweet children with his buzzing airborne thingies!) but calmed down enough to let the kids fly one of his planes. (This was when I was still a revved-up city gal, and pointless pursuits that took alot of time were suspect...now I realize they are a vital part of life and accept his 'grandfather' excuse for having the planes)
Flying the planes was a blast. I asked him : where do you get this sort of thing? Meaning the cheaper (19.95) easy to fly ones that could withstand Wilder divebombing them to the ground, vs. the lovely large $200 big planes, that could not. He answered : Wally World. I asked if there was one nearby, he said no, not in PT, but there was further on down the road.
When I got home I looked in the phone book for Wallyworld or Wally World. There was no such listing. I searched all of kitsap county for a hobby store starting with W. Went to the library to search local phone books since I lived in King County...did not find it. Could not figure out where this mysterious Wallyworld was, thought I got it wrong.
About a year ago, someone referenced Wally World as in : I need to get to Wally World. The context of the conversation was that they were going to WALMART. I had a huge Aha moment at that point, it was very refreshing. Now, I know you smart readers already had this figured out, but it took me 5 years. I remember asking a storekeep in Silverdale where Wallyworld was, and they literally turned their head sideways, like an attentive dog to a strange noise. Like I was trying to pull their leg. Yes, I can be clueless.

Kitsap County WA Part 1

When I was looking for a house with property to buy outside of Seattle... I drove throughout the surrounding towns and counties circling Seattle. I was looking for a community that WAS a community. Something that the developers did not decide the lay of the land, since for some reason greed wins out over "community" unless there are guidelines for density and requirements for infrastructure. In the last 20 years that seems to have been hucked out of the window of King County.
How I ended up in Kitsap is that it still has retained alot of it's rural nature. It has clear guidelines for density in city limits and outside. It was all written down which areas were slated for development, and they were near the city limits. Rather than checker-boarded allover the county. Which does not make happy rural property owners or development owners... since the reason people buy in a development may be so they don't have to look over a manure pile or have cows mooing next door. Ditto for rural residents. They may want the privacy so they can park as many derelict and dead cars as they want in their front yard and not worry about the neighbors complaining. Or raise pigs.
Over on the Seattle side of the water, former farmland areas to the north, east and south have been and are being filled with endless rows of quickly constructed developments with granite counters, spacious entry ways, walk-in closets and less expensive materials holding it all up.
I did research on rural density designations and development for all the counties I looked at. (and school data, crime data and community demographics) In Kitsap, we attended a meeting on zoning changes. The thing that struck me was the people in charge seem to be fresh outta school. I am all for school, but I think it takes a bit of life wisdom to take what you have learned in school all starry-eyed and dew-cheeked and roll it through the machine of real life, so it can get a semblance of what gritty reality is. Take your theories, actually live and work in the community, listen to the residents and business owners, imagine your county's role in a larger world....and then put something down on paper.
There is a bunch of development issues I have been watching with a keen eye. And it reminds me of the difficulty of the public process. More later....

Matronly lady Jumps a Battery

Driving out of our road onto the main highway. There was a truck smooshed onto the side of the road (not much room for a car before the road dropped off into forest) with battery cables draped over the sideview mirror. As I was waiting to turn right and zoom off to work a wee little lightbulb went off in my head. Duh, he wanted a jump. I threw the minivan into reverse, pulled up alongside and asked if he was waiting for a jump. Answering yes, I pulled in front of the truck, he hooked up the cables and it started right up. He looked up at me kinda awkwardly and stumbled over a very gracious thank you -- "an angel stopped to help me today... a beautiful ( lovely /somewordlikethat) angel." Now, to put this in perspective remember where I live. I bet never in a million years has a woman ever stopped to help that he wasn't directly related to. He was expecting the jovial man-talk of work and trucks etc etc and got this perky tall woman stopping. And, I never think of myself as lovely nor an angel, I am just a person that see someone needs help and I had the ability to solve that particular problem. I actually embrace the matronly, middle aged type lady I may be-- who drives the white minivan with the small dent because said lady backed her own truck into her own minivan.
Then, got taken out to a surprise dinner by a friend,
and then was told to have a --lovely evening, Miss-- by a stranger. (see matron reference above)


Photo credit : This photo is so appropriately from www.artofmanliness.com

Blogs - Soap Opera - Part II

So I got sucked into this online hissy fit between three bloggers. It is like reading those reality shows I won't watch, except there is no editing to make it more palatable for primetime television.
Only one was actually having hissy fits you could see online. Her sister and brother in law were having their own uncomfortable online blogging episodes and the point of all the brouhaha a) her attacks on a blogger who is one of the big bloggers with the aforementioned clean and easy-reading blog, visually appealing and supposedly well-funded by advertisers and b)she had a crisis of faith, as in, completely went away from the church. This may be fine and dandy to do on the West Coast of the U.S. but from reading her it sounds like hell on earth in her part of (Kansas? Iowa? anyway the corn and bible belt) She is pretty feisty. Reading her I stick by my "I think menopause is hitting her bad..." or else she has tucked alot of 'shoulds' under her belt without knowing why and when the hormones started changing she began to question things. Really really question things. I don't envy her one bit. She has alot of anger, although it is well-worded anger. Her stories of how her family is dealing with her make me sad.
Note: I am editing all the blog name specifics out of this and my previous post. I wanted to comment on the impersonal/personal nature of blogging and how we bloggers may or may not match our online blogging persona. What I don't want is to benefit traffic-wise just because I put some big name bloggers in my verbiage here. And I was. So now I am not.

Gentleman Woman Farmer

That is what my neighbor called me yesterday, somewhat stumbling over it all. A gentlemanwomanfarmer. I guess that is alot better than 'single-mom-getting-into-lordknowswhat-without-a-man girl' neighbor. Sometimes I feel I am on the receiving end of folks not able to fit me into their little hole of working single ma. Whatever that means in their head, I guarantee I don't fit it.
In the past two years I have dealt with things I never dreamed were still happening around Seattle, or for that matter, since the 1970's. I forgot how open Seattle is. There is a reason people are moving here in droves.
I am only 20 miles away, but wow, it is quite a different beast over here. I am missing the alarm in my brain that has a clearly designated this-is-woman-behavior and this-is-man-behavior section. I didn't grow up that way in my family. If it needed doing, it was done. Didn't matter what gender accomplished the task. In this place, for better or worse, I am the do everything person. I don't have the luxury of only cooking and cleaning. I also have to fix the mower (slowly) clean the gutters (fearfully) get the cars repaired (I like this part) talk to neighbors with wayward dogs (not so much) oh, and get my kids in to get their teeth cleaned. For the first time in my life, I have been told that there are things women do, and things men do, and that is for a reason. And, that it is in the bible. Sigh. I am hitting small bumps of how to fit into community meetings, where the women flow to one area and the men to another. I have a foot in both the decision making homeowner group and the childrearing gardening cooking group. How is that navigated? Before I die, I will know. But for now, I don't. And sometimes it is just tiring. I know why I have such a fierce love of inclusiveness within groups. Some sort of reaction to being excluded. Yeah, yeah, not everyone needs to like me, but civility is a good thing. I make it sound like everyone is cognizant of their behavior, and I really think they are not. All strange. But also, all invigorating for me. I love a good challenge, and an opportunity for opening minds, or probably more appropriate for me, but less effective, the opportunity to smack closed minds into shock mode. But politely, of course.

I am really doomed if a man does wander into my life. Since I don't want to be the inside the house cleaning person. Or even the crafty person. I want to be the outside breaking things like my lawn mower person. Or trying to fix things and getting all oily and dirty person. Or tying my hair up with baling twine and wearing jeans all day person. And then when I am all dirty and tired come in the clean house with dinner already done person. I also don't want to be the scrub around the base of the toilet person. That is my least favorite job.

Zoning changes

As I mentioned before, when buying this house I did every possible type of research to figure out zoning, land-use and projected projects in the area. We are zoned 5-acre rural. I bought waaaay outside of the city limits, since they were going for 'density' in that area. I bought a property with wetlands on it. Protected, yes? I know I have limits placed by county and state regulations as to what I am able to do near it.

Two days ago I got a note in the mail about a public meeting. Why? Because they are going to rezone us rural industrial. Can we say "stressed out and ready for a fight?" Yes, we can say that easily.

Pictures

Visiting deer cleaning up my apples. Outside my window. As I type. This one has not been shot yet by neighbors. God bless 'em.

I have started taking these pics of dogs on laps of drivers as I see them, but it is hard to be unobtrusive, since my camera is big. The man is driving with a dog on his lap. His arms are around the dog to the steering wheel. And I had to drive in the lane next to them. (but was stopped for this photo...) Yesterday, what I could not photograph since we were rollin' , was a woman with her dog with his paws on the steering wheel as they are moving. Pray tell, what would she choose to do, steer out of danger or make sure her poopsy does not get flipped roughly off the steering wheel?) PEOPLE, what is wrong with you?? Where is your head? What happened to responsibility? Crapinahandbasket! (I don't get charged for saying that word around the kidlets)

This one is pretty self evident. And How Come those rainblows never look as glorious in 2-D as when you are standing under them? Oh, chicken coop that needs paint and a new roof visible in the background.

Onward to Oregon

My favorite part of the freeway down to Oregon.... when you get to go 76 1/2 mph!
The green trim on the Mitchell Oregon Skyhook Motel. I sat in this chair typing on this computer when last here. When I look at these pics it actually somewhat cracks me up, since this wee little motel looks rather rough and unpolished. In my life it is the people that make anyplace worth visiting. And the owners of the Skyhook and the little town of Mitchell are straightforward small town people. I can do the fancy hotels, with the desk staff that could give a rip. But as I age, I will spend my money gladly at the small cafes, espresso stands, and hotels where the people do give a damn.













Interior, Skyhook. All those things are handmade on the wall. This is also a very clean little place with handmade quilts on the bed. The prior posting on this place talks of the history, of course, I am always a sucker for that.
This is a better place to visit Sept-April. The walls are fairly thin and you don't want any screamers next door. (to be fair, that only happened once in my 15 years of staying here... and mercifully for me, but probably not for his gal, the man was a quick shooter)

Blogging instead of Talking - Gushy Post on Friendship

I think there is no small coincidence that I started blogging when I moved out and away from my friends in the "big city." Even though we all promised that we would keep in touch, it is not the easiest since I am an hour and a $30 ferry ride away. It is basically a day trip to come visit, as opposed to "come over and help me finish this cold coffee...." or "come over and try these cookies...." or "let's go on a walk and I can tell you..."
I did know this would change when I moved. And honestly, the calmness of my son, the horses in the back field, the birds out my window, the humor of my daughter, or the ants crawling up my house (oh wait, that is not one of the good things) balance it out. But still I miss them. One comes over and helps me garden, two I schedule a bit-o-time in her busy schedule for a check-in and get together, three has had my son over the 4th of July weekend and our children and similar stories blend us together. It is not always easy to have friends-- boy, they take time! But always good to have people behind you that will step in at a moments notice, listen to all the crap and allow you to bounce crazy ideas off of without actually coming out and telling you that you are crazy.

House - Heat and Electrical work

1. Victory on the heating front. Got my 500 lb dang oil furnace (I mean durn) dragged unceremoniously down the basement stairs and it is being installed! $1000 bucks. And I bought the "new" one off of craigslist. Can't have propane because it is in the basement, can't have gas because there is no service out here.
But the original 1200 lb. wood/oil furnace was OLD and mightily cracked. See there are huge bonuses to living in an old house. They are not so hermetically sealed that you get carbon monoxide poisoning if your furnace firebox has a 6 inch crack in the side. (in my mind, I am trying to be generous, but only come up with "snaky snaky sellers", hiding behind christianity to soothe your lyin' soul) Whoa, did I say that? I have never learned that forgiveness part of humanity. I will work on it before I die, but probably not with them. Did I mention the boys found more in the wetlands when camping? They pulled out a camper stair set and a computer monitor. Who the %*# puts a computer monitor, gas can, oil can, 20 foot rug, gas grill, motorcycle, truck and car parts "in the bushes" when the garbage truck takes pretty much anything you put out there away for free. Aaah. I think I figured it out. They buried or burned their garbage, not gonna give it to the man when God so graciously gave them these mini three acres to hide it all on! When our well water goes oily, I will know why.
Sorry. Big rant action there.
2. Hmmm on the electrical front. The first quote to do my electrical is $2500. And that is only for a new box, and to update the kitchen. That is it. No living room, dining room, bathrooms, laundry room or any of the bedrooms. So that may mean that this will be a kaboodle of bucks job to finish it all? And I just spent $123 which I felt was a luxury... on base molding for downstairs. Yes, I need it. No, heat is not more important. Why yes, I am lousy at setting priorities, why do you ask?
3. I have been subtley forced into thinking of my plywood painted floors (pics to come!!) and deciding I don't like them and want the wood underneath exposed and refinished. What are the chances that is less than $1K? Yeah, thought so.

Hello I have a little problem

Hi. It's been awhile. It's me, Rose here to comment, yet again on something that my mom has done. Durn. She said durn. Actually she wrote it. And it was on purpose. It wasn't one of those accidently trying to write darn and ends up writing durn kind of things. She may think she hasn't gone country but oh, she could never be more wrong. Durn does not only sound "country" but it's also not even a word AND for some reason it just really bugs me so that's even more a reason for her not to say it. I mean the durn... it just gives me little shivers down my spine, kind of like nails on a chalk board. Veeeeeerrry bad. Ok, im done now.

Oregon - somewhat bland photos

These are mostly memory triggers as opposed to loveliness in a two dimensional format. These are all white appaloosas with spots all over themselves. I noticed this breeder last time I was through here. Hey gal with the white spotted horse, this one is for you!

I truly love this place. Oh yes, looks very, shall we say, humble? It is the Skyhook Motel in Mitchell. Super extraordinary kind owners Becky and Dennis have had me as a guest for about 18 years now. I have watched the gradual 'remodeling' of the place, and stayed in every room at one time or another. They keep it super clean with homemade doilies and homey touches. The building is transplanted from a town that used to exist on the Columbia River and was flooded out-- Vanport, a hastily-built town located between the Portland city limits and the Columbia River, which was built to house shipyard workers during WWII. So I am combining a couple of my fave things : kind folks and history when I stay here.

Along the Columbia River are orchards upon orchards that supply cherries and apples. Here the old trees are gearing up for another season. I think I took this pic to show me how they pruned their trees, since I have old orchard trees on my property.

Country - Kids

After spring rain. (image Blue Shoe Farm Blog)

My daughter has told her friends that her mother is "going country". The way she says it makes it seem like I am "going postal". I just happen to live on property with a horse or two and a chicken or two, but I still have the same amount of cowboy boots and country cd's as I did when I was a city girl. Which is more boots than cd's honestly....

City Girl Ways - Country Livin' Ways

Picture: "I didn't do it, the cat did" and what exactly did I roll in?
Here I am. In the local credit union waiting for the folks who work there to figure out an answer to a question I had. A fellow walks in. Up to the bank teller. Round belly, boisterous voice. "I wanna make a deposit" ( I swear I was not purposely eavesdropping, he was 10 feet away and his voice Boomed) He goes on: I want to put $400 into checking, $400 cash and the rest into my savings. So that would be $582 into savings.
The ol' city girl part of me is flipping out. Shhhh. Omigod, hush about your money amounts! Someone will wait right outside the bank and bonk you on the head and take your $400 bucks... shhhhhh.... shhhhh. Don't say that stuff out loud, whisper, lean over to the teller or write it out on a piece of paper, keep the bank quiet like a library without kids... shhhhhh!
The old old OLD part of me that remembers a quiet community rural life says "Yeehaw, I am home." Where trust is high, talking loud in a bank is maybe unconventional, but not dangerous, kids running around in mud is fine, and we are not all overscheduled and driving like maniacs. Now I just need to find that bumper sticker I remember an old timer had on his car... "I may be slow, but I am ahead of you!"
(No comments about my previous post about getting pulled over for going over the speed limit. Change takes time, and my cars go best about 5-9 miles over the speed limit. UNless it is a school zone or neighborhood, then I am exactly ON)

Neighborliness (Neighborly-ness?)

The youth and I live in an old homestead. 1904-built former orchard and dairy farmhouse. Sometime in the 80's, that property was subdivided into 3 acre lots and sold. In the past 10 years houses have sprouted on those pieces, and folks have moved in. Now, this is just from me reading the plat maps and looking at the tax records. I have not seen it happen, we have only been here 5 months. But that is long enough to become immersed in the neighborhood psyche. Most women here are stay-at-home, and if they are not, the fella definitely runs the roost. Here I am, tall woman who still has her job in the big city moving in without a man by my side. I had forgotten the subtle threat that can be. The men only talk to me when their women are not around, or would truly prefer that they had a male in my house to be able to talk things over with. A gal pal and I would tease that I should wear a t-shirt... I Don't Like Married Men, or So Not Interested in Your Husband to put it out there. It is a small community, and most have not ever come over to say hi. Me being a big blab-head have made a point to say hi to everyone, and I have been over to their places. Hell, in our big city house we got a welcome basket from the neighbors. But I digress. There are three neighbors that are gold, and I have called on in emergencies, but a couple have let me know that they hoped I would take care of the neighborhood troublemaker dogs, being that I have horses and chickens. Because they all LIKE these folks, and since I am new they can throw me under the bus.
And yesterday, I went there. Right under that bus.

A perk to Outside of Seattle living - Turkey, no... quail, no.... pheasant!

Looked up and out of the window of my room as I am logging onto the computer. And there is a spectacular bird looking back at me. We were both a bit startled, but not like the ET movie type startle where we both scream. It ran off, I went looking for my camera... for next time.
The kids and I crack up at the 'bobble headed' wee quails that look a little bumbling and clueless as they bump into each other not knowing where to go when surprised. But dang those guys are cute!