We now have:

  • Hot water (but no bath towels)
  • A dishwasher (need automatic dishwasher detergent– have you seen the result of standard dish soap? Jay took responsibility. I was able to continue sitting.)
  • A washing machine (dryer will be ready soon– then we’ll have a remedy for the tearful loss of beloved jammies.)
  • A functioning kitchen
  • Clearance to drink the water! The tests came back nearly identical to the city water we’ve been drinking for 10 years.

To do still are a bunch of little odds and ends, and a few bigger things that will wait till later in the year:

  • Redo bathroom
    • Get rid of carpet in bathroom
    • need a sink/vanity
  • new kitchen floor
  • Range hood
  • wood stove reinstalled
    • the stovepipe and everything else about the set-up was declared unsafe, so we took the pipe down and it’s an elaborate end-table until summer.
  • I’m also looking forward to getting the little monitor in the cabin so running out for a refill on my small (in-kitchen) containers isn’t painfully cold while I fumble about with bare hands.

So so thankful the water situation has worked out. It was the biggest question in this fingers-crossed experiment, and it looks like the Lord has blessed us.

Now we continue to wait on the questions about the septic system (when the indoors work slows down a bit Jay plans to do more investigating work).

We’re In!

Spend the whole day in our new house, scrubbing walls, clearing cobwebs and generally imagining what the next several years of our life will look like.

We are excited to report the well-pump is working. We don’t know yet about the quality of the water (will need to have it tested), and since we haven’t yet purchased a hot water heater we also don’t have hot water yet.

But since we bought the place not even knowing if the well worked, well, we were pretty excited when that water came wooshing out.

That last paragraph as got to have the most Ws I’ve used in a long time. Especially noticeable since my keyboard’s not cooperating.

My kitchen cupboards are disapointing, but I’m praying for inspiration to make them a little less ugly, and I have a couple ideas not completely asked for.

The trick will be whether I can find what I’m looking for at a store– without too much wasted time looking.

The rest of the kitchen will be more fun; I picked a pinkish burgundy for the walls (a first for me) and we expect to buy a full fridge and just use our chest freezer for any frozen stuff.

The kids were thrilled at the chance to pick out the colors for their room (each contributed a shade and each will get to help paint his or her wall) and we plan to recycle the colors elsewhere in the house: sunshine yellow, sky blue, and lavender.

Hey Nonny Nonny, Much Work to Do

We just finished reading The Hobbit.

Melody’s first words on realizing this– she hasn’t been paying consistent attention, though she always begs for another chapter, even when it’s not bedtime– were, “Now! Let’s read it again!

Jay and I took four kids out to the new house yesterday to take notes on measurements and the amount of work to do before we can move in.

Our timeline is pretty tight: Jay goes back to work with the new year, and we have just under a month to meet our goal of having the Princess house back on the market by January 25th.

Wondering now if we’ll modify that goal.

For starters I plan to make the walls in th new place a priority: washing, patching and painting, so I can hang stuff up as it comes out of the boxes.

The flooring needs to be redone in the kitchen, bathroom and library/pantry cabin, but at this point I expect to wait on that until the house is ready for market.

We’ll clean what we can and do a sort of fast-swap, where we bring over what we currently are using and set up house with that before we even start to mess with the stored boxes.

Once we’re out of this house we’ll change our cleaning energies back here, patch and pain the walls then have Lowes come through and replace the carpet.  We expect to leave this house partially staged, using the furniture that won’t come to the new house, and to put it up at a price lower than it is assessed at, with the goal of course to be done with the whole business as quick as possible.

The kitchen is as small as I thought, 2½ feet of counter space on either side of the sink, but we have a 4-ft set of shelves that we hope to set up there if possible.

Right now the house has a front porch that is rather charming to me.  Jay pointed out it would be perfect to enclose as an unheated arctic entry, and I can’t disagree with the logic of his observation, but I feel a little sad about it, since as old and weather-beaten as the exterior looks, the porch made it look nicer.

///

Last minute (because of course, the clock stops for Christmas) e-mails flying back and forth to prepare for the closing Monday.

Downsizing a Kitchen

In the next month–Lord willing– I will be moving into a new house (and by “new” I mean a 40-year-old cabin, albeit one blessed with running water; not a given in my community).

The layout is fine, but the storage options in my new kitchen are limited to two sets of cabinets: one below the sink’s counter, and one above.

We’ll probably add some more once we get the appliances in and see where they’d fit. But, even with the extras I estimate I’ll have about 1/3 the storage space I enjoy in my current kitchen.

I will have a dry cabin right outside the front door, so any non-daily stuff (pressure-canner!) and pantry storage won’t have to fit in the actual kitchen.

This post is to throw an open door to this sort of advice: What bare minimums would you keep in a stripped down kitchen?

Some of my first answers surprised me, for example, between my salad-spinner and my Kitchen Aid mixer, I’d pick the first.

You see, since going gluten-free most of my baked-goods have been one-batch experiments, hardly worth the effort of unpacking then washing. On the other hand, I’ve really enjoyed the simplicity of the spinner’s results, and food that needs rinsing is cheaper anyway, which makes it the kind I’m most likely to buy.

Fortunately (she says with a grit-tooth grin) my minimalistic living while our house was on the market this summer can inform these choices.

My off-the-top list (these are all things I have and use already. The goal is to keep handy only the constantly used):

  • Dishes to eat off of, and silverware.
  • All my mixing bowls
  • Two of every measuring cup (my ill-fated attempt to use just one of each really cramped me in the kitchen this summer) and all my spoons.
  • Two bread pans, three cookie sheets and four Silpats (non-stick silicone mats. *Perfect* for GF cookies) and silicone baking cups (did you know these will work on a cookie sheet? Means I can pass on the cupcake tins.)
  • Full pot rack (freebie, since it can just hang )
  • Vitamix blender
  • Knife block
  • Microwave and/or toaster oven (These last four will likely fill most of the available counter space– though we usually stack these last two.)

Aaand that’s about as far as I’ve broken it down.  I’m not entirely sure how to divide the food or remaining “filler” that currently finds its home in my kitchen.

Anybody with experience or insight will be heard with great eagerness.

Short Story

We have an appointment to close (write the check) Monday the 27th.

The question, that doesn’t make sense to me, is when we will be given the keys.

(Seems to me that coincides with the payment, but somehow that’s in question?)

New House (again)

Latest news:

The title search revealed two IRS liens on the property (against the previous owner, who was foreclosed on).  As things stand the IRS’s “option to redeem” expires about Christmas. At that point the land will be free and clear with no possibility of the rug being pulled from under us.

So naturally we’re back in waiting mode.

Three possiblities are now before us.

  1. The seller could pay the liens, facilitating a quick closing
  2. We could all wait until the liens expire, less than a month away.
  3. The seller may withdraw from the contract

Considering the communication record with these sellers we have literally no idea when we’ll know which option is chosen for us.

They’re listed in the order we’d prefer.

On the upside, the kids and I drove by the place yesterday and the big berm left by the snow plow (that I was afraid would now be an ice-wall b/c of the freezing rain we had) has been plowed down.  The driveway/parking area still needs cleared of snow, but I like having a means of seeing how much attention the structures have been receiving.

None since the last big dump more than a week ago, and I prefer this.

New House

Our offer has been accepted.

We are now waiting for the title-search to be initiated by the seller (their job) and once it comes back clean we can write a check.

We won’t be debt-free yet. We still have to sell our house for that (back on the market in February is the plan). But then it will be fully ours.

Still trying to wrap my head around that.

I am so excited it’s really. not. funny.  Feeling so vested I feel like too much is at stake. At the same time I’m trying to convince (imagined) critical voices to get off my back: Yeah, I see problems. It’s not a perfect place, but as Jay so succinctly expressed it:

This place meets our goals.

And not just the stated ones.

The articulated goal was a small place (with running water) on a chunk of land that could be debt-free with the sale of our house.

The extras:

  • A big front room (open spaces do a lot for my sense of peace). This is not a box we can’t turn around in.
  • a dedicated laundry room (I’ve been doing laundry in our garage for the last 8 years)
  • a dry cabin just outside the front door (seriously, I don’t know if I’d want someone living that close to me ) Jay and I hope to turn into a “reference library” so all our books can be accessible at once without cluttering the house with books we need less-often.
  • A huge (seriously, huge) shed behind the house so that (once we weatherproof it.  Which it needs) we can remove all the stuff in storage at my folks’ place, both to give them their garage back and to have all our own stuff accessible on our own property.
  • Lots of water.  An artesian well a stone’s throw from the house, a creekish thing and a pond or lake, depending on your definition.
    • Have I already mentioned here how I’ve always wanted ducks, as opposed to chickens? The water is cool to me for that reason. Not that I really want to deal with wintering ducks (yet), I just really like the option being an easy one.

There are a few car carcasses in the woods that we’ll have to get rid of, and, yeah, I’m a little tense to see what’s hiding under the snow on these 6 acres, but I’ve been keen on this property since the first time it hit my radar on October 16th.

And it’s not solid till it’s signed, so the rug could still get pulled from under me until that day, but I’m trying to think on the words of a friend who’s just seen the picture of the Chinese daughter she’s been waiting three years to meet.

I told her how scared I was to have my heart so set on something that isn’t settled.

“God can change your heart,” she said gently. “Your heart can be in it, and if it’s not right God can change that and heal it.”

It’s struck me lately how many precious people in my world are also waiting: for a baby to be born, for an adoption, for test results, for transfer notices; and we share the instability, trying to “bear one another’s burdens” while also “carry[ing our] own load.”

~

The offer included a 15-day deadline to closing, so at least I have an end to the question.

And I am hopeful.  And excited.

It’s no small thing to imagine I have a space, not only to hide from showings in (what a blessing it will be not to live in the house we’re trying to sell as “pristine”) but also to have a genuine “starter” home that we will live in (as or if) we build another “forever” home.

I am encouraged to think this verse applies to us:

Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin. (Zechariah 4:10)

And we pray our work will bring him glory.

Spoons

Quick story:

Two women were out for coffee one day, and Sally was trying to get Mary to commit to a particular project two days away.  Mary hemmed and hawed, before finally admitting she was having emotional and health issues that left her with little energy for more than the basics.

“And sometimes I barely make the basics,” Mary confided.  “It was hard to even to get here today.”

Sally gripped her cup a bit tighter and asked Mary what she’d rather be doing.

Mary blushed, and asked Sally if she was done with her spoon.  Holding Sally’s spoon, and her own, Mary snagged a handful of spoons from an unbussed table nearby.

“Let me show you something.” Mary laid out the spoons in a row. Seven of them.

“This spoon is getting three children fed and out the door in time for school.  This spoon is getting to a meeting on time. And some days, like today I only have four spoons. And one of those was used up showering and getting ready for the day.”

“This is your way of saying you have a finite amount of energy,” said Sally, now understanding.

“And that I value you a great deal,” said Mary, “even if I couldn’t be here.”

I am currently very low on spoons.  I welcome your prayers.

The Amalgamation of Childhood

Listening to my children play is like picking apart the seeds of dreams.

Elisha and Melody have been play slave-escape stories again tonight, and Elisha restarted a scenario, carefully setting it up:

“The White Dragon will protect us from the Red Dragon–Kill it! And then help us escape to Freedom.  Carry us. But not in its jaws, on its back.”

Care to see the sources?

I love the way my kids produce stories.

Specializing… soon.

Just now I’m feeling like all I want to do in my free-time is write, but I have to admit that there are are more interactive projects out there, and a lot of them look really cool both to me and my kids.

Here’s what I’m tucking away for later.

And a recipe to file away for when we seriously try for dairy-free: Coconut milk