Archive for October 2012
Trash Talk
Today is trash pickup day for us. Trash day becomes a monumental occasion when you are in the process of clearing out 25-years worth of accumulation from a home.
A year ago, when Cyndie moved to Boston, I called our trash company and asked that our service be reduced to the smallest bin they offered. They seemed reluctant to drop down to that size for a house in our neighborhood, but I reported there would be only 1 person living in the home, and they gave in.
Most weeks, I was unable to fill even one bag. It was embarrassing carrying this half-filled bag out to drop in the tiny bin. It was hardly worth the walk to roll it to the end of the driveway. I bet the pickup arm of the truck didn’t even register any weight when it hoisted it.
Now we find ourselves wrestling to put 10-pounds of trash into a 5-pound bin. It is comical, the amount of stuff we have been trying to force into that teeny, tiny bucket. Last week I was having difficulty rolling it to the end of the drive, because it was so top-heavy it had become tippy. We had more crap in bags stacked above the rim, than we did underneath it.
After the effort to process everything in the garage last weekend, it became no contest on trying to use the mini-bin. We called our trash hauling service and reported our predicament. They were very accommodating, …for a fee. We received authorization to pile extra bags beside the bin today.
Yesterday we got an extra refrigerator removed from the basement and sent off to a new home. All the hazardous waste was loaded into the car for a trip to the Hennepin County drop-off facility. Somebody picked up 3 boxes of stuff I had posted as give-away on craigslist.
The progress thus far is laudable. I believe we are in reach of actually being ready by the time the moving van arrives next Tuesday. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean we get to rest between then and now. We still have a LOT of work to do. But, it is a reasonable amount of “lot.”
Worth It
It occurred to me yesterday that our new living environment will be one which is surrounded by wood-paneled walls. I have been in a house with painted drywall for 25-years.
We did not set out to find a log home. It was quite a surprise to discover the property listing which most appealed to us included a home that looked like our “cabin” at the lake. Bonus! I think the new environment will do wonders for my state of mind, even though I haven’t particularly noticed a problem. It just feels like an improvement to me.
Add to that, the fact that I won’t look out the window and see the side of my neighbor’s garage, but instead, a forest of trees, and I will be experiencing a double-dose of state-of-mind improvements.
But it doesn’t end there. I will be able to step outside and not hear the sounds of auto traffic. That’s a luxury we don’t even enjoy at the lake.
On the way home from the day-job yesterday, I contemplated the duration of my current commute, and imagined how different a frame of mind I will have when that section of the drive becomes just a fraction of the total trip. Already, both Cyndie and I have recognized a shift in our perception of what constitutes a long duration of travel.
Having the destination be such a dream-come-true, does wonders for the amount of driving we find ourselves willing to consider accepting.
Getting Closer
The reality of my situation is, I have only 1 weekend left to finish packing. Since we were off gallivanting around the countryside this past Saturday, I was left with only Sunday, to tackle something significant. I chose the garage. Next weekend, it will be the remaining portion of the basement that gets my full attention.
I’m feeling okay with the progress in the garage, but I didn’t quite complete the task of getting it ready for movers to just pick things up and load. What I did accomplish was, getting my hands, at least once, on everything stored along the walls, or on a shelf. Some things made it no further than to a pile on the floor, but at least they are accounted for and are now moved from where they were previously stored. I still need to bind handles together, and otherwise wrap things for maximum carrying efficiency.
While going through drawers in a cabinet at the back of our garage, I discovered one of my stashes of zip-lock bags. Then I found another stash, and then another. I seem to be a hoarder of zip-lock bags! At the day-job, there are a wide array of sizes of heavy-duty bags that I hang on to for general storage, or for camping and bike trips, and even for moving! Just last week, I brought home a new pile of really good bags, thinking I could use them to dump all the things that have collected in my top dresser drawer.
Obviously, I had lost track of the fact that I already have bags upon bags stored up for just such an occasion. Maybe I should let Cyndie in on the whereabouts of my zip-lock bag stashes, so she can actually put them to use, instead of my just storing them indefinitely.
Let me take this opportunity to say that for every one thing I pack, Cyndie is doing tens of things. She helped me in the garage some on Sunday, and then scoured the yard to claim every last item we had outside that wasn’t a permanent fixture. She drained and coiled all our hoses, which I particularly appreciate.
Every day, she is packing more things than I even knew existed in our home, while I am stuck toiling away at the day-job. Meanwhile, she is managing the communications and documents involved with our closings.
Yesterday, I watched a handful of emails that she copied me on, as she continued to carry out the navigation of demands from agencies trying to get everything they need for our two closings in one day. I am at a loss as to who is who, what documents need to be prepared, and in what order.
The closer we get to the big day of name signing, the more I realize that I couldn’t have accomplished this without her.
Fascinating Stuff
In the process of packing up two-and-a-half decades of accumulation around our house, Cyndie has uncovered reams of precious records that document our children’s young lives. Fascinating stuff, all of it. She has an excellent ability to quickly browse through mounds of documents, which is a good thing, since she is so good at saving mounds of documents. I’m a bit more clumsy in my review. Progress would slow to a crawl if it were left for me to sort through it all.
We are at that point when it is time to choose whether to continue to save, or to finally discard. It has me wondering about the ultimate value of keeping pieces of ourselves from the past. It is a bit of a conundrum for someone with an interest in genealogy. In generations to come, such records will offer valuable insight to any descendents engaged in research of their ancestry.
Reading some of the things our children wrote for school assignments also has me thinking about what it must be like for teachers who process hundreds of kid’s thoughts, year after year. A saintly act. I have the benefit of knowing how the kids turned out, so the drama and angst of the young, developing minds is somewhat muted. I can’t imagine having to read the writings of vast numbers of frustrated students, in real-time, that teachers annually face.
The papers I found myself reading may have been assignments to practice writing, or demonstrate grammar, and seemed to capture a snapshot of a young person’s developing mind. When I read what our children wrote, I became aware of how far they have come since that time. These childhood writings no longer applied to them. It felt almost unfair to their present adult selves, to be reading what they thought back then. I say ‘almost,’ as in, not entirely. Part of me, certainly, as a parent, thoroughly enjoys the experience of witnessing the range of growth they have achieved.
If Cyndie hadn’t saved it, I wouldn’t have been given this chance.
So, do we continue saving it?
I’m torn. A large part of me is of a mind to leave all that behind and focus on living in the current moment. Most likely, if our kids don’t choose to hang on to any of it, we will pare it down to a fraction of the total, and preserve just a few pieces. A compromise, to appease the sentimental parent in both of us. However, I sense doing so would just be delaying the inevitable moment when we have reason to purge accumulation again sometime in the future.
It will be fine with me if we never have to pack for a move like this again!
Regional Exploration
Yesterday, we drove to visit our property with 4 friends, and then explore an art tour in the region. While walking around our property, we witnessed our first snowflakes in the air. Here’s hoping for many more!
The precious people selling the place were in the final stages of packing and moving out. The timing of our visit was perfect, because we were able to offer assistance in carrying a large television and its base down from the loft for them. Made our umpteenth visit feel less like an intrusion, being able to contribute our labor.
After showing our new property to our friends, we set off on a drive to check out nearby establishments, and then the art on display in towns along the Mississippi River. First stop was the Mecca of cheese curds, the Ellsworth Cooperative Creamery, then a neighborhood pub in Beldenville, Clyde’s Corner. An order of deep-fried cheese curds was consumed there with liquid refreshments. We were welcomed to the community.
We drove the Great River Road to linger in Maiden Rock, Stockholm, & Pepin, eventually making it all the way to Nelson. We stopped for a light lunch at the Nelson Cheese and Creamery. Notice a theme here? This spot in Nelson is no longer functioning as a creamery, but has been renovated to be an attractively popular destination.
I brought my camera along on the expedition, but I ended up taking only 1 picture. The Men’s room in the Nelson Creamery. Specifically, the mirror over the sink in the Men’s room. Perfectly suited for the target audience, don’t you think?
In Transition
So much to do, so little time in which to do it. I had hoped to do a quick post this morning, before we head out on a big adventure today, but the task turned out to be not so quick. The topic I picked deserves time for more thought than I have right now, so I will save it for another day. In its place, you get, …what else? A picture to view! A leaf, in transition. Like our lives right now.
Enjoy the day!
Embracing Mystery
I am comfortable embracing mysteries of the universe. In my view, it is not my purpose in this life to solve them.
What makes me uncomfortable, is trying to imagine how we could possibly get our new place ready fast enough to accept all the horses being offered to us as gifts. We are already up to 7. Yep. Count ’em. Seven. That is not including the one that begged Cyndie to take him home with her from the barn where she has been taking dressage lessons. He had a price tag that disqualifies him from the list of gift offers.
I can honestly say that a year ago, in my wildest dreams, I did not imagine the universe presenting the scenario that I find myself living today.
I kinda like not understanding it all.
Self Portrait
While enjoying the scenery up at the lake last Saturday, I captured this image of some guy looking at me through his camera lens:
I like the way it turned out. A little bit mysterious. It takes a second to figure out what is going on.
And, since I am posting photos, here is an outtake from the session on the water. I really like the coloring of lake and sky, and find myself wanting to gaze upon images from this series, again and again. This one falls just short of my goal, because of the slant of the horizon. It bugs me, but the color is still appealing:
I was attempting to capture the ripples created by boat traffic. That feature also failed to come through as I had hoped. The leaf that floated into the foreground grabs attention, but it doesn’t present enough of a classic leaf outline to be a rewarding distraction. It just leaves an impression of, “what is it doing there?”
If you find yourself asking, the answer is: floating.
If the leaf could have taken a self-portrait, it probably would have, but since it wasn’t able, I took the picture.
I can’t get over the feeling that all the water is going to run out the right edge of that image, following the slant. Yet, I still discover my gaze enjoying the view. Maybe that is because I am usually seeing it at thumbnail size. The gradient of colors seems more dramatic as the image is reduced.
Don’t you agree?
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Masterful Planning
We are eking out progress, one day at a time. When our buyers make one more request of us, to appease their insurance company’s needs for in-depth documentation, we scour our files and produce the goods, from 16-years ago! Full speed ahead.
When I come home from the day-job, it is a relief for me to hear Cyndie report the variety of places in our house that she has vanquished. Closets packed, basement storage, down to the last few things. I am making progress, vicariously through Cyndie.
Our lovely children have both checked in, preparing to navigate the final days, and stop over to pick up the last of their stuff. We have received clearance from Cyndie’s parents to store some of our delicate and valuable items at their house during the transition.
We still haven’t found a home for the extra refrigerator in the basement, but what’s the worst that could happen? We take it with us. I’m not too worried.
We didn’t have a master plan when we moved into our house in Eden Prairie 25 years ago. Over the span of time that we have lived here, we shaped it into the home we wanted. I have every confidence we will be able to accomplish the same thing at our new home. The secret ingredient is time.
We don’t need to have it perfectly (whatever that is) figured out in time to tell the movers where to put everything. Get our stuff from here to there, place it somewhere safe and dry, and we’ll eventually figure out what will work best for us.
Seriously. That’s not just my struggles with planning talking. That’s my knowledge that we’ve done it before, and we will be able to do it again, and more!
Wooded Wonderings
It is now October and our closing date is just over 2-weeks away. Something tells me the days will pass very quickly. Yikes!
And, yahoo!
We stopped by the property twice over the weekend, on our way to, and from, the lake. That really revved up our excitement another notch, if that is even possible. Sunday, we met my sister, Judy, and her husband, Scott, in Ellsworth, to give them an opportunity to visit our land before they head back to Arizona for the winter.
Each time I walk the property, something new is revealed. It became obvious that we will need to do some serious exterminating. There are a lot of mounds of dirt piled up from gophers. On the bright side, I probably don’t need to worry about aerating my lawn.
I did discover a bit of the invasive species, Common Buckthorn, growing in our woods. Looks like a small enough percentage that I can handily dispatch and control it myself.
There are plenty of trees to be found with cross-branch rubbing, and a few broken limbs that haven’t fully detached. I will have no shortage of chances to play lumberjack in my new woods.
We came upon a significant pile of branches and other natural rubbish, and even some inorganic trash, tucked away in the woods. Maybe I can make that into a bonfire in the middle of winter. I don’t even want to whisper the word, ‘fire’ right now, with the extremely dry conditions we are experiencing.
One drawback of our dream property is the lack of any surface water in the vicinity. No lakes or significant rivers, on or near our borders. There are a fair number of small rivers and streams in the county, but I’m not clear yet, about what the closest river is, with enough water to flow year-round.
Back on the subject of the woods, of the many utilitarian devices we will be needing to purchase, a light and reliable chainsaw is very high on my list. On my old corner suburban lot, I got by using hand-saws for the moderate chores, and hired a tree company (which provided my very own certified arborist) to prune or take down the few large trees that needed attention. I suppose I could check and see if they do any work that far out of the metro area, but I expect the expense would be rather extreme.
I sure would love to have my arborist give an analysis of my new woods. I cherished the map they provided of my suburban lot, showing the location of all the primary trees, each one numbered and identified by species. I can’t imagine how such a thing would be accomplished on our new property, although, I’m sure there is a way to do it. Certainly lumber companies know the inventory of what is growing on their acreage.
The new property starts with a few cottonwoods down by the road, then a variety of evergreens that the current owners have planted in the 11-years they’ve been there. There are a couple of fair-sized willows, a good number of poplars, some big oaks and maples. I’m not so quick on identifying elms or ash, but I wouldn’t be surprised to discover those, as well. Those two have been hit pretty hard by disease or pests in the region, so might be scarce.
I may be inclined to add some cedar, and will look into whether birch will work or not. I can dream. It will be a trick to manage it all while needing to commute to the day-job, so tending to the forest will likely be a weekend hobby for quite some time.
Here’s hoping the current drought goes gentle on our little forest, so I have something worth managing in the years to come.
Relative Something 