survive « Robin Writes

All the papers are signed, the closing date is set, all the details worked out for possession, etc.

And I’m a mess.

You know how it is when you have SO MUCH to do? Me, I just kind of shut down. Random thoughts fly through my head at odd moments, and when I have a chance to sit down and think and make lists, my mind goes blank.

As you can guess, this plays havoc with my company. And family. And day-to-day stuff.

But we do have a plan. Sorta:

Actually see the place.
Go to the auction on March 14.
Walk the property—this is separate from the first thing on the list, because initially we just need to see the buildings and check it all out.
Decide where a few outside improvements are going to be built. We’d originally planned to camp while we were building the cabin, and even though it’s more like remodeling and cleaning now, we still need a place to sleep and cook and shower and all that. So that’s first on the building list. Plus, there will be a place for ALL OUR FRIENDS to stay while they’re um, helping. [wink, wink]
Start the clean-up. The seller is having an auction, but we don’t really know how much of the “stuff” will be sold and removed, and we don’t know how much of the leftover stuff will be taken away. And, too, there’s some trash and things, overgrowth, and who knows what that will be need to be cleaned out.

Based on the calendar and our schedules, we hope to have these things done within a few weeks after closing; by the first of May, at least. Once school is out for the summer, we’ll have more time to go down there and stay for a few days or so. Of course, we won’t just be working—what’s the fun in that?

Next up will be putting storage stalls in the barn so we can start moving stuff out of our garage—if you’ll recall, over the last year I’ve been moving things into a big pile for a garage sale and packing up all the other things, memorabilia, etc., that I don’t want to exactly get rid of, but we don’t use. You know, kids’ mementos, papers and things from my grandparents, those kinds of things.

Our sale is set for April, and when it’s over, EVERTHING left—that the kids don’t take—will be donated. Stick a fork in me, I’m done. Ruthless. That’s the keyword.

And then we have the house itself to deal with. The stuff. That’s all moving out too, eventually, to the garage for the next sale. Whew.

By the way, I hate garage sales. Loathe them. Despise them. Words are not strong enough to describe how truly terrible it is to have a garage sale . . .

So, up and at ‘em, onward and upward, and so forth. Go forth. Okay, I’ll admit it, I’m getting a little loopy making all these lists!

You know how I write about all that survival stuff and everything? Well, in case you didn’t know, I kinda do all of that too . . .

Okay, okay, more than “kinda.” I’m trying to get us to eat better, which means I grow and can and bake everything I can; I have weapons training—and weapons. I can tie knots, find my way around, find water, build a shelter, etc. etc.

Only now, it’s for real! Or, well, it will be, in just a little over a year.

As some of you know already, we’ve been looking for property out in BFE, Podunk, whatever you want to call it, for six months. Six long months. We’ve made offers on two different parcels already, and this past Monday we went for a third—and got it!

We, um, haven’t actually seen it yet. There’s this winter phenomenon called snow; a lot of you are familiar with that, right?

So, as soon as things melt—and not return—we’ll be heading out there to see just what we’ve agreed to buy!

Thirty-five acres; pond; mostly woods; a barn; and two houses.

Now, the original idea was to find empty land, with water, like a pond or creek, and then build everything in the compound: cabin, storage, pump house, etc.

So, anyway, our plans changed a bit. Like the cabin, for instance—we were planning on 640 square feet and no dishwasher, but we got 900 with a dishwasher. [shrug] I can deal with that. I’m a little disappointed that I won’t be designing it from the ground up, but this place has plenty of things that can still be done, and will be, eventually.

Of course, the first thing will be to plan out and construct the campsite out in the woods. Ahem, that’s so all my friends can come camping . . . we won’t mention the work days we have planned!

Wait, scratch that—the first thing is moving the light over the kitchen sink. I can tell, even from pictures, that it’s off-center and that’s going to drive me nuts. And my husband says the second thing is calling the conservation department and getting fish in that pond!