tidwell « Robin Writes

Well. Ahem. There was, um, a LOT OF STUFF left at the new place. The listing agent had said that the seller “just moved out” the first of February. Maybe we forgot to ask which year?

Picture this (and you can see for yourself, although the pics for this week’s episode were taken shortly after we started; so just imagine even MORE STUFF):

A 900 square foot house, two rooms. We’re not counting the half-assed lean-to attached to the back that served as a utility room. That sucker is coming down, as soon as we can manage. There are three decks; the one to the left we’ll call the “kitchen deck,” because the door leading inside is right next to the pantry. The front deck is, of course, on the front, with a door leading inside to the open living area, and the side deck is off the bedroom/bath—but it’s connected to the front deck. All are covered, mostly, and the kitchen deck has a ramp instead of stairs.

All three decks were covered with plastic planters, as well as few clay ones, and large plastic buckets. Also plastic gallon ice cream containers. Also No. 10 cans, empty. Well, empty of their original contents. Most were now filled with rocks. Not good rocks. Not interesting rocks. Just rocks. Some planters had rocks, most had dirt. One had empty root beer cans and dirt. Hmmm.

Also discovered on the decks were an aquarium, a restaurant corner book AND table, boxes, rags, trash, plastic chairs, dog dishes (plural, several times over), and a few other assorted odd things. Crap, that is.

I’m happy to report that, while the booth and table are still there—we’re actually just wondering if it’s an illusion—the rest has made its happy way to the barn or the dumpster or the junk pile.

We have a BIG junk pile . . .

Now, let’s step inside. It’s okay. You can come in. We have latex gloves and dust masks and lots of bleach. Lots.

In the living area, there are two falling-apart recliners, an electric organ, an entertainment center. Also a VHS player, complete with tapes, a ton of Jehovah’s Witness material, cassettes, a CRT monitor, a practically new printer, keyboard, mouse. Also evidence of other mice. Quite a bit, but also a lot of mouse poison. And traps. Empty, thankfully. Oh, and ton of wadded-up newspaper, and dust, and trash. A lot of trash.

Good thing we bought a huge box of contractor trash bags.

The cabinets were full of junk, old dishes, home-canned items, spices, and cake mixes. Yes, you read that right. Also a lot of dog meds, wormers, etc. And some people meds. Nothing in the fridge, which surprisingly did NOT smell, but the freezer . . . Blech.

Slip through the bathroom doorway—no actual door, yet—and you’ll see the same kind of crap. Meds, personal care items, a shelving unit in the shower, the toilet in a couple pieces—not trashed, just apart—and bubble bath, dog food, dead plants, perfume, makeup, and more trash.

Walking through the bedroom/bath area, you’ll find more of the same. And a couch. Ick. And a mattress on top of a homemade platform bed. And more crap on top of that. Shoes in the closet. And hangers. Lots of hangers.

Practically indescribable.

And now? Cleaning, Round One, complete.

I say “round one,” because no way anything is going in that house until I have at least one more cleaning spree in there. No way.

We arrived Friday, early afternoon. We finished the house Sunday, late afternoon.

Now, just to be clear, we did a few other things:

Saturday morning, 8:30, 30 degrees, we hiked half the property and narrowed down the possible campsites to two locations.

We got the well turned on and working—sadly, the connection on top of the hot water tank was loose, so that icky lean-to got a quick shower. On the plus side, it sure didn’t hurt anything . . .

We also had a gate and some lumber delivered, and then returned said gate for a bigger one. And we sampled every fast-food restaurant in town.

There aren’t many.

And we got in some target practice.

No, not at the neighbor’s chickens. Oh, he has guineas too. Ick. BIG ick. And a rooster that crows ALL THE TIME.

And we made a lot of plans. A lot. And a lot of lists.

But in the end, we can’t wait to go back!

Closing date is official: March 27! We’ll go down, we’ll sign, we’ll pay, we’ll walk the property. And the following weekend, we get busy!

It’s all about priorities, and that means the outside stuff gets done first. I have a master list, and many others, but at the very top is the garden, followed by the campsite.

If you’re homesteading, and aiming for self-sufficiency, food is pretty important. It’s not a matter of just throwing down some seeds and adding water and pulling a few weeds. That might make a nice picture, and you could be envisioning yourself walking through a lush garden, leisurely plucking tomatoes for your salad, but it’s a lot more work than that.

The first thing we’ll be doing is cutting down the overgrowth and grass in the garden area—a full acre in size. That’s what’s needed to feed a family of three for an entire year. Check with your local ag extension.

Next up, remove any junk uncovered by the trimming. I know it’s there—wooden planter boxes, old tires used for planting, etc. And that’s just what I’ve seen so far.

Then there’s plowing/tilling, depending on our acquisition of a tractor. Or not. It may not arrive until later . . . Fencing will go up, too. No point in feeding just the deer.

And finally, planting. One word of caution: plant what you’ll eat. If you don’t like it, why grow it? Go back to that ag extension site and take notes on how much of each vegetable you’ll need to plant—typically, they’ll tell you by length of row or number of plants. For example, for a family of three, we’ll need nine bell pepper plants and nine jalapeno plants; 225 feet of corn.

Naturally, once you’ve planted, you must water, and following that, weeding. This is not a once a month deal, but almost daily. Keep on top of it or it quickly becomes overwhelming. In our case, since we’re not moving for a year, we’ll only be able to go down there once a week or so; if this is the way you have to work, so be it. Make allowances for the other work to be done, because that garden is really, really important.

As for water, seeds must be kept moist and seedlings watered regularly. If you’re present, and you have water, no problem. If you’re not there every day, like us, it could be a problem. A big one. Fortunately, we have a well—and did I mention the spigots, about 4-5 of them, lined up along the drive? Yes! Very exciting—soaker hoses and a timer are much easier and quicker than setting up the irrigation system I’d planned.

The other side of the coin is that we also have a garden here at home. The higher-maintenance plants and the ones we harvest most often will be staying right here.

Next up, facilities. Yes, there are utilities, but the house needs cleaning out and cleaning up. And we have company coming in April. They’re coming to work, but still . . . we’ll be building an outhouse and a shower house, as well as a firepit, back in the woods. We’ll all camp out, and the main goal is to build the kitchen shelter.

If you’re not familiar with Girl Scout camp, that’s just the name for, well, a shelter that houses a kitchen. A roof, support pillars, a couple picnic tables, gravel flooring, and plywood cabinets and counter space along one side. Later, we’ll add two brick barbeque pits for cooking. The cabinets will store all the camping and outdoor cooking gear.

Then there’s the barn, and the pond, and the outside of the house. Don’t get me wrong, the house is fine, we could move in today with a bit of quick cleaning, but I’m not a fan of the wall paneling, and it could use a couple additional walls as well. I also want to add to the kitchen, a canning and baking station. Besides, much easier to renovate when you’re NOT living in it! By the time the cold weather comes back around, we should have all the outdoor stuff finished and be able to work on that.

I’m really anxious to get started . . .