Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Farm Hunting: Attempt One

Looked at two properties today; one was a clear no, if only because of the "hill-billy" neighbours straight out of a book of clinches...but also because so much more backward red-neck things done to the house; the other our dream property 69 acres of beautiful grassland and trees...but the sale had just completed, so we made another list of land/farm sites to look at tomorrow.

Fell in the mud this afternoon trying to tramp through the woods on a property, the phrase "slick as shit" comes to mind. It's been raining all day and a big storm rolled in just as we hopped in dads truck to head back to the city, and now the city we're staying in tonight has so much water they shut down the highways. Fun times. Perhaps tomorrow we'll float away.

Took dad out to dinner for Father's Day tonight, it may have been the first time we've ever done that, and to thank him for helping us look at real estate. He seems pretty excited for us to start a farm. It seems almost natural, though still a scary concept, it runs in the family, we come from a long line of country dwellers. Plus, we only live once, why not give all the things we can a try.

It also seems like a good thing for us, (other than the back problems and arthritis) many of us don't deal with people and the public well...animals are so much better than the majority of people. We're planning on trying to make a living off of the farm. There are a lot of options...all we need is the right property.

It's a big chance to take, private well, private sewer...those are just the highlights of the properties we looked at today, and plan to look at tomorrow.

Oh, and wood ticks. Dad had one, we had one. We haven't had one of those in over 20 years (that I can recall); those things suck...literally. Ick. I can feel them on me now...even though I know they aren't there.

It's all a big scary, exciting, dream, but like dad said...

(which in a Google search actually tuned out to be a quote from Lowell Lundstrom, a Midwest missionary we surprisingly recall the name of because his wife was a gospel singer, and dad had one of her cassettes in the car when we were children)

~ Frank et al

[No, we're not trying to be inspirational, so shove a stick in it]

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