Uncle Ken, the Architect

Ken has been by to visit quite a bit lately. I'm not sure what's been holding him back the past several years, because I think he's been here more in the past 3 months than he has in the entire 7 years that I've been with Jesse. I'm trying to convince him to move here, because it would be freaking awesome!

Jesse and Ken go way back and are man BFF's. The kids adore him and have even proposed that I go live with Ken in San Francisco so that he can be their dad. It's not that their own dad isn't a good dad. In fact, my kids pretty much hit the dad jackpot. But when they see uncle Ken, they have dance parties with strobe lights and disco balls. He's a fresh face and plays differently than mom and dad. He plays like a guy that doesn't live with kids every single day. I bet when Ken decides to settle down, the kids will dump both of us and move to San Francisco full time.

As we were heading back to Hood River, we passed the annual Fremont street festival. Bummer, because it's a lot of fun, but too miserably hot the past two years. Today is pretty cool and perfect for a street fair. Maybe next year!

I just want to say that I didn't have fun with my kids this weekend. It was all I could do to get away from them. It might have had something to do with the fact that their dad had been out of town for 4 days and I needed a break. Every once in a while I would muster up the energy to take them on some adventure, only to be reminded of why I should not have attempted it in the first place.

The first time was at The Gorge White House, right off Hwy 35 on the fruit loop. We were interested in checking out the place, because the BnB has a double decker porch that I admire and may want to replicate on our house in some way. We have never stopped here before, so we were completely in awe as we stepped out of the car and took in the scenery. Absolutely stunning and amazing. They have uPick fields and lovely flower gardens. We think we might want to try this on our land, on a smaller scale. I'm particularly interested in the sunflowers, because they are extremely good for the soil. Quite a bit of our land is historic orchard, so we are going to pay particular interest initially in growing plants that first remove toxins from the soil, then introduce nutrients. But that's another conversation.

Here is a link to the website.

http://thegorgewhitehouse.com/

When we first got out of the car, J came out of the car in a UT baseball cap, and I heard a man yell, "y'all better be from Texas if y'all are wearing a UT hat." Of course, being from Houston, I didn't take any offense to that, and went over and had a nice chat with the couple from 'somewhere near Dallas.' They were staying at the BnB and seemed to be having a really nice adult vacation.

Jesse thinks it's funny when I refer to things as adult or child, because sometimes, calling things adult just sounds raunchy. Like the other day, I told a woman at the children's bookstore I frequent that I think it's cool that they have adult books too. She asked me to please not refer to them as adult books, especially in a children's bookstore. So I'd like to clarify that by adult vacation, I mean that you get to drink a glass of wine and not constantly endure whining or numerous visits to the bathroom. Anyway, if there's another word I could use other than adult, it would be great to know. 

We kind of hit the end of blueberry picking season, and they weren't allowing anyone to pick the gigantic, delicious strawberries that were still growing, so we pretty much struck out. It didn't help that as soon as we got out to the far end of the field, J needed to go potty and M was complaining about the heat. Normally, I would just tell him to water a nearby tree, but it just didn't seem like the right thing to do at a public garden.

Apparently, I didn't learn my lesson at the last place, so, undeterred, I tried my luck at Rasmussen Farms. They were having a festival as well. A quilt show and Van Gogh festival. Once again, the complaints started as soon as we got out of the car. I'm hot, carry me, I'm hungry, it's too sunny....

I ignored the whining and carried on. 

http://www.rasmussenfarms.com/

We will definitely be back for the Pumpkin festival!

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Back at the house, Jesse and Ken were in the midst of a measuring marathon. They started measuring from the moment they arrived and didn't stop all weekend until it was time for Ken to head to the airport, back to San Francisco. That's friendship, man. Here he is putting all the info into the computer to come up with a cool rendering of the house.

While the guys were measuring the house and the kids were playing, I decided to take the carpet I pulled out last weekend to the dump. Mrs. B was sweet enough to lend us her truck while she's in transition to her new place and while we wait to take a century's worth of chemicals to the hazardous waste collection site. 

So I head down to the dump with my truck full of carpet, and I get there, and the CUTEST guy comes up to the car, measures my load and says $24, cash or check. Of course I only have cash, and I only have $22, because the cute fireman that was collecting cash on the road minutes before just took my $2. Before you think how cheap I am, I really wanted to give more, but it was a split second decision, and I grabbed the first thing I saw.

So I asked the cute guy if he could just take $22 worth of stuff, but he said go on, and just back up to the corner and dump it over there. 

Easier said than done. My truck doesn't have a rearview window. I managed and when I got out of the truck, and even CUTER guy was unloading some stuff from his trailer. 

Hello, single ladies! All the hot guys are at the dump!!!!!!

Soooo, I start to put my mask on, and this hunky guy comes over and asks if I would like some help. He literally grabs the entire bed of carpet in two handfuls and he's done. What would have taken a good 30 minutes, took him about 45 seconds. 

So I left the dump perfectly clean and with a little skip in my step. There are still gentlemen out there (other than my husband, who is perfect) and it exists in small towns.

Here I am with my gear, post dump:

Jesse, right away, when we bought the farm, suggested we need a pickup truck, but I was not convinced. I'm convinced now. Especially if we can get one for less than $1000.

On my way back from the dump, I decided to head over to Sears to get a washer and dryer for the farm. I tried Craigs List a few times, but they don't come up too often, and go quickly. I found a decent set on sale for $1000 (don't get me started on the ridiculous pricing schemes these guys play - yes I did notice that all the prices are different from one week ago, sir)!

But what really caught my eye is this:

Check out this puppy. Either I just haven't been into a sears in a long time, or this is what the small town Sears get. This sucker has a blinking cursor and everything!

At the end of the day, we decided to walk up the hill from the house to the "picnic spot." There stands a giant tree, and views of the valley as far as the eye can see. I found an old walking stick I had purchased many years before for a future unknown moment in time, and we headed up.

I like it up here. I could see us living up here 20 years from now in a small cabin with a front porch, living off the grid.

But we have something special down the hill, waiting for us to give it some love.

Check out my neighbor's antique milk truck. I want it, and I want it bad.

Isn't it cute? Look! It has big eyes, cute little orange cheeks, and a big happy smile. 

Look what else we have - another barn! I have plans for this, but I'm not going to say what yet.

OK, good night. I would like to end this post by saying, no matter how many times I call this guy or that guy cute, it's only as a public service announcement for all the single ladies out there. I want you all to be as happy as I am.

Peace!

P.s. Uncle Ken is single and I'm taking applications.

Every muscle in my body hurts

There is not one part of my body that doesn't hurt. Even the bottom of my feet hurt. I'm hobbling around, hunched over, and there are two little kids that are still there to manage. Jesse is on a 4 day and 4 night business trip.

When does school start again?

Back in Portland. The first thing we did when we returned to town was check the little veggie garden and our fruit trees. It might just be the weather or a coincidence, but we haven't had an aphid problem this year. I'm going to attribute it to the herbs that I decided to plant alongside the veggies. I've read that herbs are a great pest deterrent. It seems to be working. Or maybe it's a coincidence. Regardless, I'm going to follow up on that one on a larger scale back on the farm. The herbs smell great, so it's a win win.

Check M out. She is super excited about the $3 sandals I picked up in Bingen. First pair of heels, and she rocks them!

Not only are the plums ready to be fully harvested, but the pluots are in fine shape, too. They are very firm and slightly sweet. From what I understand about cold storage, you are supposed to pick them just before peak ripeness for the longest storage. I hope this is right, or I will find out the hard way. Cold storage is just above freezing. Leave them undisturbed and they will keep through the winter. They ripen a little during storage, which is why you pick the fruit before it softens. The skin does have a little give, so I go for it, teetering high on the ladder, and amassing a decent amount of fruit for only the second year of owning this tree. M put a sign on the fridge door - do not open - and we store only the pluots and plums together.

The pluots might look a little funky, but it's because I haven't washed them. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to wash them or not. It seems like it would make them rot. I think the commercial operations wash their fruit in something, but I'm not a commercial operation, and I can wash them before I eat, right? Might need to look into that one. Picking them was work in itself, so I'm apt to just let this one go. Especially since we never sprayed the trees with any type of pesticide or fertilizer. I've been told that if you don't spray, you lose a significant amount to bugs. This wasn't the case, and it gives me hope that we can do this on a larger scale in Hood River.

Decided to take the pluots that had blemishes, cut off the good parts, and make a little juice. I also used the peaches we picked at Mr. N's place, along with a bunch of carrots. While I was juicing, I put a tablespoon of chia seed in the liquid to plump up. To top it off, I added 2-3 large scoops of greek yogurt. Delish!!!!

The kids LOVED it. I've been experimenting with Chia seed since last weekend. The Farmer mentioned to us that there's a decent market for Chia seed domestically and that it's something we should consider growing. When we mentioned it to Brian, he told us that his wife puts Chia seed literally in everything. I like it. It's a little like bubble tea.

I watched a neighbor's cat. It's a stunningly beautiful, affectionate, and playful kitten. The plan was to hang out with the kitty twice a day, cuddle, and play in the basement. The kids would have no part of it, though. Every time the cat came near, the kids started screaming and crying. Not what I had imagined.

Other than that, we had a couple of playdates this week, a visit to OMSI and a lot of downtime. Since this past weekend, I haven't been able to walk much, because of some major arch pain, and my legs and the rest of my body are pretty sore. Pretty tired too. Think it might take some time to gain the muscle I need to make farming and home renovation a reality. On the upside, I think I've lost about 5 pounds. Not bad for two weeks.

We've been eating pretty healthy this week, too. It's nice and hot outside, so we've mostly been foraging in the garden and living on eggs, tortillas, avocado, and other fruit and vegetables. 

I love summer.

Faux Fishing the Hood River, last day of work and fun, and our supercool neighbor

There's this little spot of the Hood River that I've always been curious about. Right as you are leaving downtown and heading to 35, if you look over, there is this river below, next to a former hydro station, where the railroad runs. Usually I see people down there, but have never made a special visit myself.

We grabbed the fishing pole M made in tracker's camp, one more bamboo pole for J, packed a lunch and headed down there. It's a quick 2 minute drive from the farm, and I would imagine a walk the kids couldn't handle yet.

M showed us her expert casting skills she learned at Tracker's camp.

J fished for a while, but decided to have a little lunch and became completely enthralled with his left hand.

Jesse decided the kids were having too much fun, so he joined in.

I was ready for some time away from the kids. They've been jumping and hanging on me a lot recently, and sometimes I just need a break.

I decided to head over to Bingen, Washington, because my neighbor Sarah told me about some cool antiques store, called Antiques & Oddities.

http://www.antiquewholesale.net/

This antique store is humongous and has a ton of knick knacks, chairs, vintage clothes and whatnot, but probably not much in the way of substantial antiques. I was about to head out, when I spotted a folding hunting knife.

I asked the lady behind the counter if I could look at it, and while I was turning it over in my hands, asked her if she thought it would help me if I were to come face to face with a bear.

After a little chuckle, she said, "you might get a little blubber with the knife, and the bear might stop to laugh for a minute, but you're not going to do any damage with that!"

OK, well, we're not going to get a gun, though you should have seen the expression on Mrs. B and the farmer's faces when we told them we weren't getting a gun. Something like, "Really? Huh." I'm starting to understand the thinking behind that expression, but not ready to buy a gun yet, either.

So I asked the lady behind the counter what kind of knife WOULD save me in a bear attack. A machete? a knife that's "this" big? a taser? mace? my dog? no definitely not MY dog. Jesse's dog, yes. So she said, "I've lived here 12 years and have never heard of a bear attack around here. Just make a bunch of noise wherever you go, and they'll leave you alone. Just don't sneak up on one or surprise one.  

This is the knife I've been carrying around:

I'm still getting a hunting knife. Maybe jesse will get me one for our anniversary. It's coming up.


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I want to share some more pictures of the house. It's a bit of a mess, but I just want you to see the progress we're making. Please excuse the pile of papers next to the orange chair. I have a little bit of a psycho paper hoarding disease.

Mom, I don't want you to have any scary flashbacks when you see this next picture, because I don't want you to be afraid of visiting. there is a perfectly good walk in shower downstairs. You do not have to psych yourself up for 2 hours to get in and out of this tub. Look familiar? A little bit too much like my first house in Portland.

Bathroom in my first house:

Now that I see the pictures next to each other, it's obvious that the farmhouse is well maintained for its age and in much better shape. The only similarities are the age and style of tub.

                               ******

I spent a big part of the morning pulling tacks out of the floors in two of the bedrooms. Pulling tacks out of the floor is extremely satisfying. It's like popping zits over and over and over again, but they always come out clean, and it doesn't hurt. I'd like to give a shout out to my dad, Henry, for introducing me to a handy little tool called the nipper. The nipper is the most effective way to pop a staple zit.

Finished with 2 of the bedrooms! Some of my progress shots:

I wanted to avoid sanding the floors upstairs, because perfect floors just lead to anxiety. But I think it's not something we'll be able to avoid. Some of the carpets pads have stuck to the floor and it's just not as clean as I hoped. Think we'll keep the carpet in the kids' room for awhile.


                      **********************


Our most amazing neighbor, Mr. N came over in his very awesome motorcycle like a super bad ass and helped Jesse get that #(*%_(#*%(^#@(% credenza in the house. He basically lifted it with one finger while telling us about his personal plane flying adventures, his visitors from Spain, and his amazing family. We gave him a full tour of the house, and from the upstairs, he pointed to some areas in the cleared forest above our houses where he told us he regularly spots Elk and bear.

We gingerly walked out onto the upper front porch, and I got this stunning panoramic view. Jesse is gunning for a pimped out top front porch, but that might have to wait a while.

He gave us some great tips on what to do with the kittywompus back of the house. It's kind of stalling everything, because we need to replace the siding on the lower half of the house, but we don't really want to side it if there are things we need to change later. Actually, I don't WANT to replace the siding at all, because it's old growth cedar, and it has these charming flare-outs at the bottom. But there is a lot of rot, and it's too expensive to restore. We're keeping the upper portion cedar, because it's in good shape, and replacing the bottom with lap siding. 

From what I've read recently about classic farmhouse architecture, it's pretty common for a farmhouse to be kittywompus, because it starts as one building and is added onto as the needs grow. It's part of the charm. My head says, square it out and make it even, but Ken (Jesse's architect friend) says to think about embracing the unevenness. It's something to think about. What's the charm in cookie cutter? Is that what we're just used to?

Ken, Jesse's architect friend from San Francisco is coming next weekend to help.

I want to extend the lower back wall all the way across, and put in a more period correct balcony on the upper right hand side to balance out the left. Jesse doesn't. He just wants to pull off the balcony and have one continuous roof across the lower back. I don't know what to do with the very top. That has kind of morphed into removing the old disconnected chimney. The more we look at it, the exponentially more expensive it gets. If our budget was unlimited, I'd extend that entire right side to match up with the left. Don't look at the house. Look at the mountain. Or embrace the charm of it all.

For the size of the house, it's actually pretty efficient. We had some pretty hot days this past couple of weeks, but there is an attic fan that pulls the hot air out. Cool air comes up from the basement, and there is a central ceiling fan that circulates the air upstairs.

Mr. N had to go, but before he left, he invited me and the kids to his orchard to pick some peaches. Why yes we will! The kids loved it.

The tree is finished. What do you think? Made out with a lot of kindling and firewood on top of it, nicely stacked in the barn. Thanks, super husband! Mrs. B left us some big tires in the barn, so we will be dialing that in next weekend.

Weekend is over, and back to Portland.

Hood River County Fair and My kids are dirty and smell bad

After ignoring the kids most of the morning, we decided to surprise them with a trip to the county fair. You should have seen the look on her face! Oh wait, here's the look on her face:

He was passed out. We call this the Jaco Taco.

This was pretty much your regular county fair, except instead of having a variety of fried food, the tents were predominantly Mexican food. One tent was tacos, one was quesadillas, one was burritos, and one was everything else. It was very civilized and nobody was in competition. You simply went to whichever tent had the dish you wanted. 

We headed down to the arena to see a barrel racing demo, and I saw a little girl and a pony. So, of course I told M there were pony rides and would she like to ride one. Yes, of course! I went up to the lady giving the pony rides, and she said, "aw, that's so sweet, you can watch the demonstration if you'd like."

Apparently this pony belongs to a four year old barrel racer and that was her polite way of saying that it's not a pony ride horse.

I met the four year old girl, and she was pretty cute. She was going to barrel race in her little tutu. The other two girls were her friends, and one is a rodeo queen! Yee haw! Feels like Texas. It was all very sweet and fun, and M was super happy.

 We headed over to the livestock show, then checked out the pigs and cows in the barn.

After, we took in some rides, gave the rest of our tickets away, and got the heck out of there. It was hot!

Jesse wanted to stop at the hardware store on the way home, so the kids and I decided to have a little fun in the store.

***Warning to grandparents: the following paragraph has graphic descriptions of your precious grandchild having an owie, but I promise that the ending is ok...***

It was all fun and games until she started weightlifting tape canisters. 

Next thing we know, one of them breaks, and she is gushing blood literally all over the store. By the time I got her to the bathroom and washed it off, I realized it was a tiny but deep cut. A band aid would suffice, but man that girl can scream. Fun is over, time to go home! (Wound is healing nicely and she got a new box of Hello Kitty band aids out of the deal.)

Back at the farm, Jesse decides to put his new tools to use. His goal for the weekend is to trim the giant tree enough to put a tire swing on giant branches above.

He spent the entire weekend under the tree. We had a tick check every day. He spotted about three of them throughout the process. I'm going to accept that checking ticks is going to be a regular thing out here, especially when they're under that tree. We talked about it at length and M has been shown what they look like. Not a fan!

The first time we visited the farm, we were driving back and I saw one crawling on Jesse's neck while he was driving. I didn't know what it was, so I put it in an airtight baggie. When I realized what it was, I wanted to show Jesse, but he was out of town. Two weeks later, I remembered I had it and pulled it out of my purse and handed it to him. He said, "It's still moving." "Can't be, I said, I pinched it about 20 times, and it's in an airtight bag." Something to ponder.

While Jesse was cutting into the tree, I found J in the orchard, staring at the pears. I asked him what he was doing, and he said he was looking for a purple one. 

Look at my kids. This is how the look all the time now. They're stinky and there is this dark brown stuff between every one of their toes that I can't get out for anything. No more flip flops on the farm for these two. Time to get them some boots!