The Farmette was a dump.
Rotten. Decaying. Crumbling around us.
I was so horribly disappointed.
Now we will be renters. Again. At least this time we'll have a house.
I must send my thanks to McNASA for a truly amazing birthday week.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Thursday, August 9, 2007
The Great Home Search
Apparently we need a place to live.
I recognize that this should not come as a shock to me; we're moving to a new state, for Pete's sake...obviously we need a new home. I understood this to a point, but I am now faced with actually finding one.
McNASA and I have generated a list of look-for's (my push. I am a great believer in lists. McNASA, on the other hand, prefers to keep mental notes that are secret to all but him). Older house, lots of light, a fair amount of land, garage, out building(s), and at least three bedrooms. That pretty much covers it.
While scouring the internet, I came across a lovely, ramshackle home that has undergone some major renovations. It sits on 2/3 of a acre, which is like a kingdom to the suburban McNASA and me. It needs some cosmetic work, and some larger things, like floors and walls. However, it's lovely, it's removed from suburbia, and it has a phenomenal price tag. I thought we were set. I was pestering McNASA about the types of floors we'd put it, I pictured myself baking bread in the kitchen and reading in the Great Room.
And then I saw the farmette.
A "farmette" is apparently a small, mostly residential parcel of land that can grow food and house animals. This farmette has 16 acres, a barn, a chicken coop, and fruit trees. It also has a 100-something year old "block house". The house is filled with paneling, baskets, and shag carpeting. I haven't even seen it yet and I am in love. I fell asleep last night imagining what it would be like to wake up and feed the chickens and check on the goats (I want goats. I have since my family "baby sat" a farmette when I was nine years old), then wander through my farmhouse while frying bacon.
We are scheduled to see both houses tomorrow. If it's not too tacky (or illegal) to do this, I will post pictures of my findings.
Wish us luck. I want to buy the farm(ette).
I recognize that this should not come as a shock to me; we're moving to a new state, for Pete's sake...obviously we need a new home. I understood this to a point, but I am now faced with actually finding one.
McNASA and I have generated a list of look-for's (my push. I am a great believer in lists. McNASA, on the other hand, prefers to keep mental notes that are secret to all but him). Older house, lots of light, a fair amount of land, garage, out building(s), and at least three bedrooms. That pretty much covers it.
While scouring the internet, I came across a lovely, ramshackle home that has undergone some major renovations. It sits on 2/3 of a acre, which is like a kingdom to the suburban McNASA and me. It needs some cosmetic work, and some larger things, like floors and walls. However, it's lovely, it's removed from suburbia, and it has a phenomenal price tag. I thought we were set. I was pestering McNASA about the types of floors we'd put it, I pictured myself baking bread in the kitchen and reading in the Great Room.
And then I saw the farmette.
A "farmette" is apparently a small, mostly residential parcel of land that can grow food and house animals. This farmette has 16 acres, a barn, a chicken coop, and fruit trees. It also has a 100-something year old "block house". The house is filled with paneling, baskets, and shag carpeting. I haven't even seen it yet and I am in love. I fell asleep last night imagining what it would be like to wake up and feed the chickens and check on the goats (I want goats. I have since my family "baby sat" a farmette when I was nine years old), then wander through my farmhouse while frying bacon.
We are scheduled to see both houses tomorrow. If it's not too tacky (or illegal) to do this, I will post pictures of my findings.
Wish us luck. I want to buy the farm(ette).
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Welcome!
I had originally started a blog to chronicle my experiences working as an inner-city high school teacher. That plan, however, was disrupted when my boyfriend and I decided to move to Southwestern Pennsylvania so that he could take a fabulous job. Now, instead of being a full-time urban teacher, we are moving to the middle of nowhere where I will be a full-time student and homemaker.
This is wonderful. This is fantastic. This gives me a chance to realize my Helen Nearing, Janet Lurhs, Jan Karon sensibilities! I will have time to bake bread, roast a perfect chicken, make an apple pie, and master the art of beef stew. Except...and here's the rub...I have no idea how to go about this. I don't know how to use bleach in a washing machine, or how to mop a floor, or how to make pancakes.
In short, I am cripplingly, shamefully domestically-challenged. So with the help of Mrs. Dunwoody's Excellent Instructions for Homekeeping: Timeless Wisdom and Practical Advice and Home Comforts : The Art and Science of Keeping House, I am going to embark on a journey of discovery: self-discovery, and re-discovery as I attempt to become what so many women have fought against. I hope you will join me as the single city girl attempts to become the Country "Wife".
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)