For silly personal reasons, I just published the previous post I'd written 2 months ago. We now have a closing date of September 29th on both the new house and our current house. We leave for a week-long trip to Brazil on September 30th to attend a friend's wedding. All of this is good news, yet overwhelming. When we were negotiating on the new house in June, October was nearly out of sight. Now it's quickly approaching and we're still in town. As it turns out, we were required to sell our current home before closing on the new place. Our current home sold after only a week on the market, but the seller chose the end of September to close. Fortunately, we have already become the sole caretakers of the new property so are able to be moved in before closing. So it will go: move to the new house, pack the bags, attend the closing, sleep, drive, fly. Upon returning from Brazil, we'll settle into our new life. Still on my to-do list is selling my low-speed, low-range electric (almost) car in hopes of purchasing a ten year old Prius with high mileage for super cheap. Still on the back of my mind is the compromise this property represents. It's not my off-grid straw bale home. It's not even the location of my off-grid straw bale home. It makes me question whether I need an off-grid straw bale home. Am I settling for something convenient in lieu of something in alignment with my values? If I settle now, will I pursue later? How much energy physically and financially should I put into a place that I'm not sure I'll keep indefinitely? If I pour too much into this place, will it hamper my ability to move on and create something uniquely mine in accordance with my beliefs? Can this place become exactly that?
Luckily, none of those questions need answers today. Or this year. Or next year.
And there will be goats. There will be goats in October.
And there will be gatherings. There will be gatherings of the people I love.
For now, this is enough. My cup runneth over.
My journey from living in town back to living in the country. Starting at the very beginning. Downsizing, Homesteading, Green Building, Flinthills, Kansas,
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Possibility to Reality
Written June 23, 2015. Posted 2 months later.
We found our place. We haven't closed on the property, but we've signed a contract and put earnest money down. Scraping together the down payment is only possible due to the generosity of our family and friends and my husbands thriving business venture.
I knew this place was a possibility. I hoped it would be everything he conjured from hours spent pouring over the satellite image of the property. It is.
Cons:
close neighbors
paved roads
probably too far for the electric Wheego
expensive, the top of our price range
no building site for off-grid home
Pros:
house just big enough to fit our future family
huge pond (or a small lake if you're generous)
apple and mulberry trees
grass
woods
giant shop
covered swimming pool in need of repair or repurpose
serious wildlife avenue
for sale by owner, an acquaintance turned friend
easy directions from town
I've found myself unable to celebrate until after the closing, an undetermined future date. I can't say it's too good to be true. If it were, it wouldn't be our top dollar. Purchasing the property assures two conditions: poverty and skinny dipping. Fortunately, we've had opportunities to practice both.
The 17 year and the 13 year cicadas are in full force this summer. I haven't communed with them a much as I'd like to, but I've been a busy bee as usual. I rode my first century bike race, a gravel ride I'll never forget. I don't know if I'll do it again, but I'm glad I did. Shortly after we got the call to go see the property and my focus immediately shifted. After singing the contract last week, work began on our current home to get it ready to show and sell. So here we are, sprucing up a home in an effort to abandon it more quickly, making tentative plans for the new place, trying to keep looking forward despite a whirlwind of events.
The heat of summer has arrived. It slows things. My body surrenders effortlessly, but my mind must be reminded to heel, here and now. This house will sell. That house will be bought. We will move. Exactly at the right time.
We found our place. We haven't closed on the property, but we've signed a contract and put earnest money down. Scraping together the down payment is only possible due to the generosity of our family and friends and my husbands thriving business venture.
I knew this place was a possibility. I hoped it would be everything he conjured from hours spent pouring over the satellite image of the property. It is.
Cons:
close neighbors
paved roads
probably too far for the electric Wheego
expensive, the top of our price range
no building site for off-grid home
Pros:
house just big enough to fit our future family
huge pond (or a small lake if you're generous)
apple and mulberry trees
grass
woods
giant shop
covered swimming pool in need of repair or repurpose
serious wildlife avenue
for sale by owner, an acquaintance turned friend
easy directions from town
I've found myself unable to celebrate until after the closing, an undetermined future date. I can't say it's too good to be true. If it were, it wouldn't be our top dollar. Purchasing the property assures two conditions: poverty and skinny dipping. Fortunately, we've had opportunities to practice both.
The 17 year and the 13 year cicadas are in full force this summer. I haven't communed with them a much as I'd like to, but I've been a busy bee as usual. I rode my first century bike race, a gravel ride I'll never forget. I don't know if I'll do it again, but I'm glad I did. Shortly after we got the call to go see the property and my focus immediately shifted. After singing the contract last week, work began on our current home to get it ready to show and sell. So here we are, sprucing up a home in an effort to abandon it more quickly, making tentative plans for the new place, trying to keep looking forward despite a whirlwind of events.
The heat of summer has arrived. It slows things. My body surrenders effortlessly, but my mind must be reminded to heel, here and now. This house will sell. That house will be bought. We will move. Exactly at the right time.
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