Musings, rantings, and dispatches from a rural homestead in the hills of the Willamette Valley, Oregon. Hot flashes included.
Wednesday, September 26, 2018
The colors and changes of autumn
Autumn is in beautiful, colorful full swing here in the PNW, and as a lifelong Fall fan, I'm finally celebrating my favorite season in an area which actually experiences it. It's heaven.
There's a crisp bite to the morning air, warm afternoons which cool off quickly in the evening, and things are hopping down in the vineyard, where harvest is progressing nicely. Apples are literally everywhere -- on volunteer trees by the roadside, in the parks, and around on this property, to a point where it's a bit like summer zucchini -- you can't give them away. There are just too many. And we've had over an inch of rain this month. A full inch -- just in September! So along with fall oranges and golds, there is also a lot of green popping up again in the fields.
There is also a ripe pumpkin field about a mile down the road which stretches as far as the eye can see, so much that these orange orbs should have their own zip code.
Our property search progresses, but we've re-tooled and will now add bare land to our focus, with an eye towards building on a couple of acres. The homes we've seen here have been disappointing, I'll be honest. Oregon's property tax laws are very odd, but one rule we now understand is that any significant remodeling triggers a reassessment, which could significantly raise your taxes from that point on. The point is, it discourages people from improving their property, other than required maintenance. (Which explains all the 1970's kitchens and bathrooms.) We have seen a lot of people remodeling right before they sell, so that the buyer and not them will face the new, steeper tax bill. (which explains all the bad house flips.) So it might just be easier to build new and face the music, being given a tax amount based on comparable properties with no improvements needed, keeping our tax bill relatively stable.
And we've also figured out that rather than go south to towns like Albany or Corvallis, we really love the area we're in. Independence has all the small-town ambiance of a Hallmark movie, with friendly people, great little shops, and a really positive community vibe. So while we won't rule anything out, we'd like to stay close to where we are now. It turns out God may have known exactly what he was doing in finding us digs 20 miles from our intended destination. And isn't that always the way?
So if we do build, it looks like we may well spend a full year in this vineyard. Being plopped down here was actually key to us realizing we did not want to live in town if at all possible. But those realizations take time. I can't imagine what we'd have done if we would have had to choose a place up here based on just one or two weekends of traveling here from California and looking.
So my advice to anyone thinking of relocating is to take your time. Your opinions, ideas and visions of what a place holds for you will change over the months you live there. So before making a permanent investment that could be wrong for you, take the time to rent somewhere before deciding. Big changes demand good data, and some revelations only come to you once you're in-country and living in the general area you are desiring to settle down in.
There seem to be a few people reading this who are themselves relocating or thinking about it, and so I will say that despite the time it's taking to find a place, this is still one of the best decisions we've ever made, hands down. It's been an education, an adventure and most of all, a huge improvement in both our lives.
Monday, September 10, 2018
Capitulation
ca·pit·u·la·tion
kəˌpiCHəˈlāSH(ə)n
noun
the action of surrendering or ceasing to resist an opponent or demand.
As in, we have capitulated. We have realized that, with autumn coming on, we may not find our forever home before winter, when the real estate market drops off a cliff and no one really wants to move anyway because of all the rain. And so we have capitulated to fate, sighed a big sigh, and slowed down (but not stopped) our real estate search while settling in here for the winter, most likely.
Our capitulation began with little things. When we moved in, I vowed I was going to unpack no more than was absolutely necessary. The problem is, the longer you are in one place, the more things you evenually need. Things like your favorite summer tablecloth. Or your poultry baster. The stepladder. Those spare toothbrushes you know you packed.
And that's how it goes. Very gradually, you unpack more and more, and slowly begin thinking of your temporary digs as a kind of "home" rather that just the place you're resting your head for a few weeks. You fix things up and get to a mindset where that temporary place is someplace you actually don't mind coming home to....a place to which all other places are relative....a place otherwise known as Home.
The real estate market was insane this summer, with premium prices being demanded of sub-par housing, almost nationwide. Now that we're into autumn, that has thankfully scaled back a bit and the market is correcting. The people who asked too much for their homes are seeing them linger on the market, and things are looking a bit more reasonable again for those wanting to buy.
And so to the end of being wise financially, we are sitting back and not rushing. Besides, we've really loved taking long walks in the vineyard in the evenings, and wherever we do end up, we'll be hard pressed to find views like these again. So we may as well enjoy them while we have them.
Next week the chimney sweep is coming to clean the fireplace and get it ready for winter. The chickens are settled in within the shelter of the carport, and so they'll still be able to enjoy scratching around when it's wet outside. And at 2,500 square feet, this house will have no problems housing our tribe over the holidays, should we still be here then.
We even bought a new sofa, after swearing we'd wait until we were in our permanent home before doing so. Turns out, you can only put up with a lumpy, springs-broken sofa for so long, even on a temporary basis.
And so we capitulate to wait on fate and enjoy what's around us now. Which, all things considered, is not a bad place to be at all.
We've had a few glorious sunsets. |
The real estate market was insane this summer, with premium prices being demanded of sub-par housing, almost nationwide. Now that we're into autumn, that has thankfully scaled back a bit and the market is correcting. The people who asked too much for their homes are seeing them linger on the market, and things are looking a bit more reasonable again for those wanting to buy.
And so to the end of being wise financially, we are sitting back and not rushing. Besides, we've really loved taking long walks in the vineyard in the evenings, and wherever we do end up, we'll be hard pressed to find views like these again. So we may as well enjoy them while we have them.
The Pinot Noir crop is looking amazing. |
Next week the chimney sweep is coming to clean the fireplace and get it ready for winter. The chickens are settled in within the shelter of the carport, and so they'll still be able to enjoy scratching around when it's wet outside. And at 2,500 square feet, this house will have no problems housing our tribe over the holidays, should we still be here then.
We even bought a new sofa, after swearing we'd wait until we were in our permanent home before doing so. Turns out, you can only put up with a lumpy, springs-broken sofa for so long, even on a temporary basis.
And so we capitulate to wait on fate and enjoy what's around us now. Which, all things considered, is not a bad place to be at all.
Looks like home...for now, anyway. |
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