picket fences, revised
life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans.... john lennoni thought i had it all mapped out. the white picket fence. the craftsman style cottage in the middle of the city. then it was the historical victorian handyman's project on the idyllic street of that perfect small town. and a few dreams later, there was that little art deco place in another small town. i'd picked out the new tile. the wallpaper. designed the landscaping, preapproved. ready for signing. then BAM. curveball. it falls through. crushed. hopes dashed. again. my partner is out of patience and ready to throw in the towel. sign another lease. try again in a year, maybe. i said i was ready to give in, too.
but clearly, i wasn't. because late, late at night, when i said i wasn't really looking. i was looking. and i found a place that was just about the farthest thing from what i had planned. what i had dreamed. what i had always been sure i wanted. it was none of that. it was a farm.
or that's what i saw, anyway. because it wasn't a farm. it was just a spot of land with a fixer-upper in the middle of nowhere. the only reason i even looked twice was the location. only a few miles from our very favorite state park, it was situated in the beautiful hill country. and the price was right. less than we'd planned, in fact. i bookmarked the ad. (who finds their home on craigslist?!) and hit the hay. i'd been up for hours and i was exhausted. ready for sleep.
except sleep did not come. the wheels were turning. speeding along. and in the early morning hours, a farm was born.
being a certified 'foodie', i had always been interested in growing our own food. living a more self-sufficient lifestyle. reducing our carbon footprint. i mean i composted, forevermore. i had all those vintage homekeeping books. i was up to this. i would start sewing again. i'd can our foods, like the jam i'd put away, oh, say, 15 years prior. i'd bake bread. we'd have some animals of some sort. if the walton's could do it, i could do it. all of this developed before 5am. and before i saw the property. and before i mentioned it to my partner. i'm kinda like that.
and the rest is history....
the partner, well he thought maybe we should take a look. and we did. the place didn't quite look like all of the dreams i'd had that night. and it was a little more difficult to imagine the storybook farm life of which i had been dreaming. it looked like a lot of work. and it looked like, well, it really looked like the country. not the walton's country, either. more like green acres. i even began to affect a hungarian accent in the new thoughts i was having. i was all eva gabor playing lisa douglas. i wondered if i'd begin taking a bath in the town's water tank. have to climb up a pole to make a phone call? were we going to have a pig named arnold? horrors!
but it was too late.
........to be continued
|image courtesy of tvland..org.|