There’s a very small chance that some of the anxiety I’ve felt this week has been due to a lack of patience.  Now, I know that might be a little tough to believe, but if I had said that it was because some things have stressed me because they were outside of my control, I know that no one would believe it.  Yeah, for anybody that might have missed it, that was sarcasm.  On a very serious note, it’s been a great help having Sandi make some of the phone calls and share some of my aggravation.  I’m grateful for her help.

I’m doing really good at tearing things out.  I think demo is really my strong suit. Removing cabinets, ripping down sheet rock, tearing up vinyl flooring, and just generally making a mess seems to come pretty naturally to me and I’m having a good time doing it.   It’s surprisingly cathartic.  But, for all the progress I’m making, I haven’t been feeling quite as optimistic when it comes to relying on others for help.  Still no word from the electrician.  I’ve called and left messages, but so far, no call back.  There’s power at the barn and the generator is working, so maybe this is where a little patience might be handy.  The well guys showed up yesterday and tried to pull the pump, but discovered it’s bound up by the wire, so the entire works need to be removed and replaced…  265 feet of 4″ pvc casing, 265 feet of wire, 265 feet of 1″ pvc supply pipe, the pump itself, and oh, by the way, they want to charge for labor, too.  I finally connected with Rick, the digger guy (should that be capitalized as a proper noun?  The Digger Guy?  Nevermind, probably not important.).  Turns out he just finished a job and had time to come by this afternoon.  He thinks the septic tank replacement should go well and he ought to be able to start next week.  As a bonus, his best-guess price is a little less than I was expecting to hear, so it made yesterday’s well news a little easier to take.

I won’t bore you with the other little details, like the challenges with finding Internet, the unbelievable lack of available, sewage holding tanks in the greater, Cripple Creek area, or the traffic jam the other day caused by a dozen wild donkeys just wandering through town.  Still beats I-5 traffic anywhere between Chehalis and Seattle, anytime of the day or night.

Oh, and I met the previous “owner” today.  He’s the guy that sank almost $90,000 cash into the house and was later told to leave without a legal leg to stand on.  Interesting conversation, to say the least.  Maybe a tiny bit awkward, too.  I’ll leave that for tomorrow.  Speaking of which, tomorrow is moving day.  My time at the KOA is up and I’ll be moving up to the property full time.  Let’s hope the arrangements we’ve made regarding the water, holding tanks, and Internet pan out.

After all of the months of planning, and dreaming, working our way through the buying process, and the first of several road trips, I finally got some work done inside the house today.  Even though I arrived on Thursday, I had errands that took my whole day on Friday, and yesterday was spent in Colorado Springs.  First, I bought an 18 foot, flatbed trailer that I found on Craigslist.  When it comes to hauling siding, roofing, gates, and other long items, this is going to be invaluable.  It will also come in handy when it’s time to rent a tractor or haul my new Jeep home.  Okay, it won’t be a ‘new’ Jeep because I just don’t care for the four door model, and I don’t have that much money, but I’m watching on line almost every day.  More on that later.  I had ordered a 12′ scaffold and had it delivered to one of the Home Depot stores down there, so I swung through and loaded it up before heading over to see the kids and grand kids across town.

I’ve been itching to get started, but I was also giving myself a little time to adjust to the altitude, since that whole breathing thing seems to be kind of important.  The first day at a new job is always a little scary.  Turns out, the dress code is super casual every day instead of just Fridays, and I think I’m going to get along with my boss really well, so there’s that.  I need to figure out who to complain to about break and meal periods, though.  I packed a lunch this morning, but after working on the kitchen all day, my hands were covered with all sorts of nastiness; 25 years of kitchen grease, some sort of brown smelly stuff that was in the sink, and what was probably some mouse poop inside the wall.  There was just no way I was going to touch food.  I may need to pick up a water jug and find a spare bar of soap to take until the well is back up and running next week.

I probably won’t do ten hour days everyday (that boss I mentioned said no to overtime…..  jerk!), but I feel like I actually made a major accomplishment, so I’m off to a great start. The guy that had the place before us put a wall between the dining room / kitchen and the living room that was just too high and too poorly installed, so I took it out.  I mean, I understand he may not have been a professional framer, but ’16 inches-on-center’ isn’t a tough concept, is it?

We’ll eventually put something back in it’s place, but it will be a little less obtrusive.  For now, we have a pretty blank canvas.  I spent the day removing cabinets, the range, the island, and even part of the window wall so I could examine our remodel options.

Those uptight, negative Nancy’s on those DIY house hunter shows are always asking for an “open concept” whatever that’s supposed to mean.

This is our open concept:

 

I’ve spent the past three days on the road, and I’m pleased to announce that with the exception of just a couple of very minor issues, the trip went exceedingly well.  Towing a trailer this large over the kinds of terrain I just covered is no small feat, and I discovered it’s even tougher when you don’t have a co-pilot.  When you make a road trip in a car, you simply take an exit and then pull in to the nearest gas station or restaurant without giving the process much thought.  With a trailer, you have to find the right exit; the one with truck accessible fuel pumps, and you have to find the right restaurants; again, the ones with enough parking that you can pull in and pull back out without having to back up, turn too tight, etc.  The right off-ramp isn’t enough:  you also have to find the right entrance to the parking lots.  Detours in town are nearly enough to set off a panic attack….  what if you get headed down a narrow road and can’t find anyplace to turn around?  It’s the stuff nightmares are made of.

The minor issues?  The first night I parked about an inch (yes, literally an inch) too close to the electrical box so I couldn’t quite run the living room slide all the way out.  Of course, I only extended the slides AFTER I lowered all four jacks, disconnected from the truck, plugged in power, and turned on the water.  Too late to move.  Luckily for me, it turns out that I didn’t want to sit on the couch that night anyway.  The other one?  I forgot the key to one of the padlocks I used to chain my generator into the bed of the truck.  Fortunately, the lock on the other end of the chain was a combo lock, so that worked out.  On the upside, there’s now a chain in the bed of my truck that nobody can steal because it’s padlocked to the cargo tie-down.

All in all, it was a good trip.  I covered 1425 miles in 25 1/2 hours of driving.  The truck pulled great and I’m pretty sure I made a bunch of truckers jealous (or was it pissed?  I can never remember) when I passed them going up some of those long grades.  Wait, maybe they were laughing, knowing what it was doing to my fuel mileage.  Oh well, I made it.

After disconnecting the trailer at the Cripple Creek KOA, my home away from home away from home for the next week (see what I did there?) I headed up to the house.  I admit that there was a brief “Oh Crap!” moment when I walked in and realized this isn’t just a discussion anymore.  It’s no longer a whimsical exchange of ‘what if’s’ and ‘wouldn’t it be cool if we’s’.  I was suddenly struck with the realization that this is ours.  It isn’t a philosophical question anymore, it’s now a matter of actually prioritizing the jobs and getting the work done.  Oh sure, we have a year to get it finished according to the bank, but I have a feeling that at nearly 10,000 feet up in the Southern Rockies, Mother Nature may have a voice in this, too.

But, for all the fear that comes from moving forward, and the sadness that comes from all we’re leaving behind, the excitement level is still high.  Plus, I took this picture from the “front yard” today.Everything is green and lush, the sky is a beautiful blue that goes on forever, and the sun was shining.  The trees are full of new leaves and the hillsides are covered in white, yellow, and purple wildflowers.  I met a doe and her new fawn up by the barn.  I think this is going to be okay.

 

 

For some reason, the westward migration of Americans in the mid to late 1800’s has frequently crossed my mind since I was a kid.  Like so many others, my own ancestors loaded everything they owned and left Illinois on the Oregon Trail and gradually made their way across the plains, rivers, and mountains so they could settle here in the Pacific Northwest.

What were they thinking as they loaded their wagons?  What to take?  What to leave behind?  What would they need when they arrive?  Tools?  Furniture?  Provisions?  What would they be able to buy, build, or trade for once they get to wherever they were going?

It’s that trip that always intrigued me.  I’ve crossed many of the same deserts, plains, and mountains, though admittedly in far greater comfort and with a lot more speed.  Still, I’ve often reached the crest of some mountain pass or another and wondered how they must have felt; elated at reaching the summit, or depressed that yet another mountain range had suddenly come into view?  What were they thinking as they slowly made their way across the vast plains of Kansas, Nebraska, the Dakotas, or parts of Montana?  Were they excited?  Did they feel knots in their stomachs from the unknown that lay ahead?

I’ve had a knot in my stomach for days.  I’m excited for the journey and the experience, but I have no idea how it might turn out.  As I try to make some of the same decisions on how to load my own, modern covered wagon; what to take, what to leave, what to come back for later…..  I feel like I’m getting a small taste of what those earlier pioneers went through.  Like I said, it will be much faster, and the comfortable, leather seats and stereo system in my new truck will help the miles pass far more pleasantly.