Bearly Here...

Well, as many of you know by now, Paul did in fact make it home, body, soul, and trailer intact. What have we been doing, you ask? Let's see: Paul has done more repairs to the trailer (grrr...), making it much more road worthy. I've finished marking final papers and sent the lot off to Uvic today. We've organized the (1600 sq.ft) workshop (I can hear the Guys drooling from here) so we can move into it for the next 2-3 months while renovations are happening. My daughter Becca and son-in-law Dean are coming tomorrow morning to help heave heavy items from the house into the workshop (hey, didn't we just do the reverse in July??). The shop has a main large room where we can plug in the stove and fridge for meals. We'll use the kitchen cabinets that are being torn out of the house, and there's a bathroom, and three smaller rooms, one of which will be our 'bedroom' and another my 'office'. As soon as that's accomplished, Paul will begin serious demolition duty. Let's see, what else-- the building permit came through yesterday, hurray! And we spent a lovely Sunday afternoon with neighbours up the hill who renovated their Doukhabour home three years ago. Rebecca and Robin moved to Castlegar from Calgary-- Rebecca is a writer and Robin an anthropologist, and they're lovely, warm people. In fact, we're finding that everyone we meet here is terrific. I just met another neighbour on the way to the mailbox this morning, and was given a warm welcome to the 'hood and promises of introductions and plant-sharing-- yay!

People seem to know our house, and many have commented on what a special property it is. We've realized that none of the new houses being built on our street along the river can be positioned as close to the river as we are-- we're probably the closest on this whole stretch of the Columbia for miles. How lucky we are to step out the (future) dining room doors and sit literally on the bank! But more than that, the comments have been about the peace, tranquility, and spirit of the place.

And in that spirit, here are a few more pictures:

Paul brought all my potted herbs, tomatoes, and geraniums from Victoria, and they're adding some colour to the Banya.

One of the many apple trees... we met a woman today who told us where we can have our apples juiced if we want.

Plums are almost ripe... which leads to the next shot:

Yes, we have a Bear, as evidenced by his or her Doo-Doo. Huge Doo-Doo, at that. May signify a huge bear, or just one who is on a terrific fruit cleanse at the moment.
Apparently we'll be vying for the plum crop... stay Tuned.

Trailer Trash, or Will Paul Make it Home?

Thank you for your patience, dear readers. I realize it's been almost a Month since I last posted (hmm... reminds me of being Catholic: "bless me father, for I have sinned... it's been one month since my last confession."). Oy.

In truth, there hasn't been a lot to report on my end, and Paul was too busy to write. When we last left you, I was starting my month of Uvic summer teaching, living in our basement suite in Victoria. I'd spent just one brief, lovely week at Flying Leap Farm before driving back. My month was... busy and boring. Although I enjoyed being in the classroom, as always. Sitting marking papers was boring, though, and I missed Paul and Cassius something fierce.

As for Paul, he accomplished tons: mowed the whole dang three acres, which was knee-high in dry grass, with our New riding mower; trimmed some of the lower branches on various Trees; made contact with a Builder, got the Permit application process underway, met a few of our Neighbours, etc. etc. He also entertained house guests, who helped him begin Demolition of the back entrance.

Before we knew it, it was time for Paul to drive back to Victoria to do some minor Maintenance on the Chambers St. house that he hadn't got to earlier, and to pack me up and bring me home. Therein begins our current Adventure. Paul, being the Bargain Hunter he is-- and usually a fine one, at that-- thought that instead of renting a U-Haul again, he would buy a second-hand Trailer to use for the duration of the renovations as well as this last move. Brilliant idea. I accompanied him to the Trailer's location, and my first thought on seeing it was 'that is one Ugly trailer.' Then, (in the voice of Gandalf) 'Is it safe?' I demurred to Paul's decision in the purchase, however, trusting in his good sense.

Well. Two days later, after repair work to the electrical/driving lights system, he was Hitched up and on his way back to Chambers St., when... the hitch broke. Bouncing along with only the safety chains holding things together. More repairs involving a Welder, and sheets of Plywood for where the truck hitch had rammed into the front of the trailer after they had parted ways. Maintenance on the house now being replaced by maintenance on the Trailer. I finished teaching Friday the 19th, cleaned and packed Saturday, and left for Home on Sunday. Paul was to follow as Soon as he was able.

Which turns out to be... Not Yet. I give to you, for your amusement and perhaps alarm, the following Excerpt from Paul's email to me last night:

(10:49 pm)

"I'm at the beautiful Ponderosa Motel and Sushi Bar in Princeton, BC: home of a number of high-temperature records and only a single day's wait for new auto parts from the Lower Mainland. I got on the 7:00 ferry yesterday and noticed on the boat that one of the trailer tires seemed a little low, so I filled it at the first service station after Tsawassen and bought a tire pressure gauge and, for some reason, a small LED flashlight. I drove very carefully to Hope, then aimed for Princeton starting at 11. There were so few people on the road at that time, it seemed best to drive when there was little potential for conflict. I drove slowly, letting people pass.

The first trailer tire went thwappa-thwappa-thwappa at 1:45 a.m., just past Manning Park. The pickup's bolt wrench was the wrong size and the bolts were frozen, but I had tools packed and eventually hammered & torqued them loose. I'll need a new ratchet set; I didn't know I could bend one like that. Adjustable-jaw crecent wrenches worked better.

The spare tire had only 20 psi (though the guy who sold me the trailer had filled them all to 34) and the wheel it was mounted on didn't have any clearance from the frame, so I had to take it off again and reverse it. I did this with the little flashlight between my teeth, turning around often to check for bears or zombies. One driver stopped to say he couldn't stop. There was only about one vehicle every 15 minutes, mostly big rigs. I always stopped what I was doing and stepped away from the trailer when someone passed, remembering all those stories that start with "The victim was changing a tire at the side of the road" and end with "identified through dental records."

The second tire shredded after 20 minutes more of driving, just before 3 a.m. I was climbing much higher up in the mountains now so it was very cold and I'd used all my warm clothes to pack breakables. The second spare was completely flat. Fortunately, I realized I had packed a bike pump. It takes about 350 pumps to fill a car tire with one of those, which is warming. I also topped up the first spare, with the filler tube now on the inside of the wheel under the trailer.

The first spare started clunking about 5 km outside Princeton, around 4:45. As I had no more backup tires and didn't care about the ones I had, I kept going for a couple of clicks and until I got to the Husky station. To my surprise, the tire wasn't flat -- but four of the five bolts were sheared off and the last was holding on by the remaining nut, which was two-thirds off. I slept for a couple of hours, and when I woke up there was a flatbed tow-truck driver getting some coffee at the station. He worked for a tire place just up the hill. Perfect.

It turns out the previous owners had changed the axle without checking the tires for clearance. They were all Bridgestone T/As, wide performance car tires. They barely fit inside the fenders, but once the trailer was loaded (those watered plants are wicked heavy) they widened out and hit metal. Then one reversed spare tire couldn't hold it's centring, snapped the bolts and chewed almost through the hub. The guys at the shop had never seen the type of damage I had. I got the sense there were some bits they might be framing.

I moved the heaviest plants from the trailer into the pickup but the parts, including proper trailer tires, won't arrive until tomorrow. The trailer should drive and track much better after that, will last longer and be a lot safer.

Through all this I didn't find myself cursing or screaming -- it was more like "Really? Seriously?" And the whole thing's been some weird kind of fun, like one of those computer games where you have to figure out how to use the gear you've collected to complete the challenge. Collect little flashlight; use little flashlight. Tire gauge, wrenches... even two same-keyed padlocks I bought a couple of days ago -- they can't move the trailer inside to store it overnight because it has no wheels now, so I needed the locks to secure the contents. It's like everything I had a passing hunch I should get, I've needed.

What frightens me is, today I picked up some bear spray."

 

Will Paul make it home Safely? By how much will the Bargain Trailer have exceeded the cost of renting, and how much will Jo-Anne care? Will the repair costs be Deductible in the same way the Rent of a U-Haul would have been? Are any Revenue Canada employees reading this right now? And why are there no photographs with this post? Stay tuned, dear readers.  

Basement Suite Blues

People have been saying 'wasn't it torture having to come back so soon after moving?' But it's not that bad, really,as long as I don't think about fresh raspberries in the morning, the sound of the river, the smell of the meadow, magnificent thunder storms... and of course Paul and Cassius. I've been back in Victoria for 10 days, living in our basement suite so I can do my Uvic summer teaching gig. The first week was the worst, mainly because I was cramming all those chapters I hadn't got to while packing and moving. But being back in the classroom feels great-- well worth the prep. Right now I'm teaching Family Counselling to the masters students who are in their third and final summer of the program. This week I add Theories in Counselling, with the new cohort just starting. I love it, the students are great. AND I get to spend a little more time with my spiritual study group, which is terrific (I've written about it on my website, www.jo-annestoltz.com).

Back home on the farm, Paul is accomplishing tons: he's installed an electric fence around the bee yard, is waging righteous war on the wasps, has met and dined with various neighbours, and bought us a riding mower of our own so we don't have to beg and borrow. I accidently brought both cameras back with me (have mailed one back to him), so he's waiting for it before posting pics and comments here. I think he'll have lots to say.

We've also had two virtual meetings with architect intern Julie from Studio9, and I think the floor plans are pretty much done. Next step is for Paul to run it past the local powers to determine permits etc. One item we're nervous about is potential required changes to the septic system to accomodate additional bathrooms... could be costly if we have to relocate the whole thing. Will keep you posted.

In addition to my pedagogical duties, I've been busy here fixing up the basement suite at 2123 Chambers. I've done some 'deep' cleaning and painted the bedroom. It was previously dark green, so hopefully this soft yellow will be an improvement during those rainy glum Victoria winter days.

I've also weeded and tidied the back yard, and will do the same in front. The lavender and rosemary need pruning, and I'll try to find a place to hang and dry the cuttings to bring home for the winter. I'm used to being able to run outside and pick fresh herbs for cooking all year 'round here, but we'll have to make do with fresh dried until I get things set up at the farm. I'm thinking pots on the new deck that can be trundled into one of the workshop rooms for the winter...

Here's a shot of some roses I picked from the bush out front, with mint drying on the window sill.      

The upstairs tenants are really nice, and I've rented the basement suite to a lovely young couple for the end of August. The Master Plan is proceeding very well indeed, heh heh. But can Paul and Jo-Anne continue to confound the Twin Gods of Crisis and Disaster in their epic journey toward unbridled, unabashed Pastoral Bliss?? Stay tuned...

PS: Have you ever noticed in 19th century writing that certain words are Capitalized by the author for Emphasis? I like it, I think it will become my Style.

First Guest, More Pics

Good morning faithful readers, I am trying to type quietly while Paul sleeps on... we're both just bagged at the end of every day. A lot of it I think is just the newness of it all, and I know for me the peace and quiet is most conducive to long, sound sleeps.

This week we had our first overnight guest (although our first official visit was from Becca and Dean last week). My sister Caroline (or Cookie, a nickname that still sticks almost 50 years on) stayed over Sunday/Monday, and she took some terrific photos:

This is one of my favourite quilts, draped over an ancient wagon out by the garden shed.

And here's our tractor! Paul will blog more about this, I suspect. It works, has new tires, and came with four attachments-- one is a snow plow we'll try on the driveway this winter.

Speaking of farm machines, here I am mowing our grass. That morning Paul and I had done some bee maintenance, and silly me wore only one layer of socks... my right ankle is swollen and painful from three stings, and so only my flipflops fit right now (in case any of you safety geeks out there were horrified). The mower was borrowed from Becca and Dean and Ange and Gord at Crooked Horn Farm (www.crookedhornfarm.ca). It rained cats and dogs so I didn't get much done-- hopefully today. One just has to be a wee bit careful heading toward the river bank...

Here's my sister, looking lovely against the 80's pink feature wall...

Caroline lives just 1.5 hours away, at Jewel Lake Resort near Grand Forks and Greenwood. She and bro-in-law Jim Harrison (look him up, hockey fans) bought the resort two years ago and its a wonderful place-- '60's style, cozy cabins on the lake, lots of camping, hiking, fishing. Here's the link: http://www.jewellakeresort.com/.

Cat update: Cassius is now staying around the house during the day, especially since Paul showed him how to get up into the 'attic' of the banya (this cat loves high spaces). I called him for dinner yesterday and he came trotting right in, and spent the night inside again as well. I think we're sorted out cat-wise.

 It will be very sad for me to leave tomorrow, but I must get some prep done before my Uvic teaching starts Tuesday (*gack*). I will miss this place already, it doesn't take long to get inside you.

What About the Cat? And random pics

Ok, the cat. On Friday, which as you recall began on such a fine note, we were finally able to coax Cassius out of his hidey place in the closet. He was still very nervous, but also seemed interested in exploring a bit. In the afternoon, Paul and I left him at the front door of the house and headed out to the workshop to sort through stuff.

That was the last time we saw him for almost two days. By Friday night, we were frantic. We called around the property and shook kitty treats, and walked up and down our road, to no avail. The next morning, still no cat, so we headed down to the river (which is large and lovely) and beat through bushes calling and calling. Paul spent almost two hours after that going round to neighbours with jars of honey and asking if they'd seen a small black cat. Nothing (except lots of friendly, helpful neighbours with stories of coyotes and disappearing cats!).

We went to bed that night feeling incredibly sad. The loss of our kitty cast a pall on what was otherwise a perfect experience. I woke in the night worrying about him, so I decided to see if I could 'tune in' to where he was. I had a strong feeling he was close by, but otherwise I had no idea. We had searched every shed and every tree.

This morning, Paul climbed the ladder to the attic one more time to shine the flashlight around and have a look. And there he was. He brought him downstairs, and wouldn't you know, after eating and drinking, he headed straight back up. Paul snapped this pic of him climbing the ladder-- something I would never have thought a cat could do:

Paul didn't think he could get through the trap door, which he'd shut, but as you can see...

He had to grab him again and bring him downstairs, and the upstairs hall door is now shut.

Yesterday he gave us another scare-- was gone from 5:30am until 9:30 last night. Paul says that cat will be the death of him.

 Ok, more pictures of our lovely home:                 

View of the mighty Columbia

Hazelnuts line the driveway...

                                                       Raspberries and garden bed...

Pears...

Apple... there are also peaches, and an old apricot that Patsy, our tenant (more about Patsy later), thinks is the last of its kind. She and I have been digging the apricot saplings and potting them for planting next year. There is lots of room for more fruit trees. Paul and I want to plant a fig.

This is the 'banya', or bathhouse, built at the same time as the main house. There are benches inside and you can see where the stove once was. I can just imagine the people here going for a good steam at the end of a day of hard, outdoor labour, then running down to the river for a plunge (that's my vision, anyway). Its a great garden shed.

Arriving, Part II

The next morning was our first in our new home. We woke up early, dressed and headed outside to a beautiful sunny day. Holding hands, we walked around the whole three acres and looked at every tree and bush and into all the sheds. At one point, when I turned to look back at the house from the meadow, with the hills above it, I burst into tears of pure joy and gratitude. We ate cherries fresh off the tree (two kinds, sweet and sour), looked at the baby peaches, pears, and apples, and picked raspberries. Paul found two matching four-leaf clovers. It was terribly, wonderfully romantic.

But soon, second moving van arrived and unloaded-- most of it directly into the 1600sq.ft. workshop so we don't have to move too much stuff out of the house once renovations begin.

                                                             Our stuff:

Empty truck, happy moving men.

And just in the nick of time, too. A terrific thunderstorm came through just after they left, with torrents of rain. I absolutely love and can't get enough of looking at the wide open sky around us. Being able to see big weather is awesome.

That's the old chicken coop behind Paul, which is now a garden shed and nesting place for wasps. The Ford tractor is parked beside it.

Shortly after the moving van left-- and pretty much in the middle of the storm, architect Steve and structural engineer Don arrived, with intern Julie. We walked them through the house and all around it, talking about our wish list. It turns out the house "has good bones." I like them, they seemed to focus on the integrity of the house, going local as much as possible (e.g., there are two electric dams upriver from us, so that's a greener source of energy), and working within our limited budget. Paul is all gung-ho to start ripping and tearing.

A Dramatic Arrival

After a blessedly uneventful 10 hours of driving, Becca and I arrived just behind Paul and the bees. It was a gorgeous evening-- what photographers and movie directors call 'magic hour.' Our realtor, Rand, was there, snapping photos of Paul-- already in his bee suit! Hmmm... didn't take long to see that a renegade bunch had escaped and were clustered on the outside of the larger of the two hives. I stepped out of the car and suited up.

After some heaving and hoving, they were in their new home, safe and sound.

One van arrived later and unloaded. I stayed at the house and Paul drove Becca and her U-Haul of stuff home to Winlaw. I knew he'd stayed to help her and her hubby Dean unload (he's just like that) when he didn't get home until past midnight. Then he headed out to the beeyard to secure the two hives, as we'd heard from the neighbour that two bear cubs were sighted on our back porch just the day before. Yikes. Long day for all of us, but Paul especially.

Here we are on the doorstep of our new home!

The cat, meanwhile, still had the same glum look on his face 16 hours previously when we'd stuffed him into the cat carrier. He was cowering on the top shelf in a bedroom closet, and wouldn't come down to eat or drink. But more about him later...