I awoke from a dream that felt like a memory.

Now I can’t sleep.


Tiny House?

Sorry I’ve been so neglectful – so much in so little time!

The sale of the house went insanely smoothly, so smoothly I’m almost sure we undersold. That’s okay though. We made some money and you should never count money you never had as money lost. That way lies madness.

Don did a phenomenal, PHENOMENAL job selling all our stuff. We did wind up giving some stuff away but none of it was big. We managed to hang onto the special stuff that you shouldn’t part with unless there’s no other choice. We rented a 5X10 storage space to put artwork, photos, and some tools in.

We’ve been here at the RV park for 5-ish weeks and we moved into the 5th wheel 2 weeks before we moved. That’s a total of 7 weeks or a month and half in roughly 250 square feet. So far it’s not been a problem at all.

Hahaha, Don’s gonna kill me for posting pictures of the mess.

It’s not a total sacrifice living here. 🙂

As to where we will wind up, we don’t really know yet. I’m kind of really liking being able to put most of my check in the bank and leave it there.

Anyway, there’s no real reason for this post other than saying “Hi, we’re still alive.”

Just An Update

Hello all! My apologies for going so long without an update.

I’m taking a quick break from the last minute chaos. Tomorrow is moving day. We’ll be making our maiden voyage over to the RV park. If you don’t need to be out it would probably be best to stay off the roads until about 1 o’clockish. 🙂

We’ve been living in the RV full time for the last two weeks and I must say I don’t hate it but I am definitely looking forward to being permanently hooked up to a sewer. You just don’t realize how much water you use until you have to manually get rid of it 40 gallons at a time.

We managed to pare down our belongings and the other stuff has been selling pretty well. We did rent a 4X10 storage unit for some stuff we’re not willing to part with but I don’t think that’s too bad.

Next week will be the final push and then we close on the 22nd. Hard to believe how quickly it all went.

Then we just wait for our opportunity to head back to the middle of the country.


I just stepped outside into one of those rare, magical moments. The moon is a full, bulbous incandescent disc hanging in the sky. The world is stark and the blacktop road is just damp enough that it reads silver as it slips between the trees.

I’ve come to this page over and over in the last few days hoping that I would be able to write something, share some of the change that is happening but each time I found myself mute, my voice locked behind a lump.

I am not sad. I am actually a little excited to explore the adventure in front of us but I think I had to acknowledge something before I could move. I realized today what that something is.

There will probably never again in my life be another place that holds the same possibilities that this place holds. That’s okay. It’s not even a bad thing. It just is. And even after realizing that the unplumbed possibilities of this place are what I have been unconsciously mourning I am still ready to move on. There are other things like family, friends, and long stretches of sunshine that I value more.

I just wanted to acknowledge that.

So here’s the update.

Our house is not even going to make it to market. Word spread of our decision to sell and we got an offer. While we were drafting a counter-offer another party knocked on our door and left their contact information in case the first deal fell through. We made our counter and it was accepted. Inspection periods and all that stuff are almost over and the only thing left to do is the appraisal. If, knock on wood, that goes well we will close by the end of February, maybe sooner.

We have a spot reserved in a nice RV park about 20 miles away. Then it becomes just a matter of waiting and watching for the right opportunity to head back east. I wonder how many other would-be farmers turned around and headed back east? For us though, heading back east will be just less west. 🙂

I guess that’s it.

For now… <insert intriguing music>

Working Title

Fool me once, shame on you.

Fool me twice, shame on …

still you!

I’ve always hated that saying. Why should we shame someone for believing? For trusting? For giving second, third, and even fourth chances?

If you fool me twice it just means you’re twice the asshole.

(I don’t even know why I’m writing this. It’s just been bouncing around in my brain for the last few months.)

A Season of Quiet

At the end there is a season of quiet.

There is no way around the fact that this is an ending. We sold the last beehive this past Saturday and the only livestock we are left with are the chickens. (On a side note, we still have 8 of the original 10 chicks we bought at the feed store two years ago. I think that’s got to be some kind of record! Haha.)

The last three geese went home with a nice gentlemen from Bellevue two Saturdays ago. He also bought five dozen eggs, our one and only egg sale – go figure. I’ve started selling my tractor implements and a nice man from nearby gave me $500 earnest money toward the purchase of my haying setup. We also have a realtor coming for an initial look at the property this Saturday.

It’s tempting to be sad. And I am a little but not in a distressing way. It’s hard to explain. Even though, one way or another, we will be leaving this place, the spirit of this life will continue.

Our immediate plans – don’t laugh! – are to move into an RV in a local park and put any money we clear on this place in the bank for a future purchase. Okay you can laugh a little but we do have a reason for this plan. Barring some super, drastic change at my place of employment I cannot continue to work there. It’s just too chaotic and oppressive. I don’t wish to separate from the company so we will have to relocate. Selling the house now removes a big source of stress and increases our flexibility to pursue opportunities at other sites. When the opening that we need comes along we will be ready to go.

Or perhaps I will separate from the company and begin an entirely new career, who knows? But that is a possibility and not the plan.

I have to tell you that along with the sadness of letting go there comes a little peace as well. I am actually looking forward to the quiet time ahead to reflect and see how I can carry the myriad things I’ve learned over the last two years into the future. Things that I have always wanted to do are no longer a mystery. I know what it takes to keep bees. I know what it takes to keep chickens. I’ve started an asparagus bed and planted fruit trees. I know what it takes to keep a cow and that keeping a cow is no longer an option (and that’s okay). I also know better now what my limits are, physically and mentally. I know more about how much I’m willing to sacrifice and not sacrifice.

These are not small things to know and all hard won. They are just as important as physical tools and perhaps more durable.

I guess that’s it for now. Peace.