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Our landlord called in mid-December to tell us that our rental house is being foreclosed and that we'd need to be moved by the end of February. Shortly thereafter, Miach had to make the unexpected trip to Florida and he was gone for about 3 weeks dealing with his mother's funeral and his father's and sister's future plans, since they were financially dependant on his mother. To top things off, Miach was only home about a week before Winter Investiture, and since we are members of Court, that added to the stress. Amazingly enough, I did spend some calm and lovely evenings at home watching my Brother Cadfael mystery DVD's and sewing my court clothes. Everyone had left me at once: my daughter and baby grand-daughter moved back in with the baby's father, my college grand-daughter decided that since we were being foreclosed she should move back to her father's, and Miach needed to go back to his father's. I turned on classical music every night before going to bed, and lit candles every evening, and worked on my silk tunic and sideless surcoat, and watched Brother Cadfael. Miach would call once or twice a day, and we'd talk on the phone for hours like we used to do when we first met.
But soon enough, Investiture was behind us and we were staring at a forced change of residence.
The first item on our agenda after Miach came home was withdrawing the offer on the house up in Sly Park. We couldn't commit to staying her for five years any longer. Then we began looking for a rental.
It was about as difficult as it had been 3 years ago when we found this place. As much as the yard here thrashes us, we have also come to love it and to enjoy the park-like ambiance, not to mention the buffer zone it creates between us and our neighbors. It kind of spoiled us, and the typical suburban yard seems awful now. On the other hand, this house does have it's problems -- poor plumbing, poor ductwork, a funny smell in the garage and I suspect mold.
So, we compromised. We are renting a one-story house on a corner, with lovely heather in the front yard and no back yard to speak of. Just a huge, concrete wrap-around patio. It does have redwood trees. The property is on a hill, and the trees loom over the house on a fairly steep inclined side yard. There is a retaining wall. We can't see our next door neighbor at all, but the house to the rear is painfully visible over the back fence. There is another redwood behind the house, and that makes the view from the kitchen fairly pleasant. But the view from the family room and master bedroom is boring. The front room and front bedroom have nice views. Miach is going to make a den in the front bedroom, which is going to be great, because he can be as messy and cluttered in there as he wants and it won't make me anxious. And we have a guest bedroom with a pretty good view of the side redwoods and patio. There is a 3 car garage, and we have so far managed to get all the stuff we had in the shed into the third bay. Tomorrow we will be moving the garage detritus, though. It takes up half of our current 2 car garage, so we'll probably end up with one actual car in the garage, just like here. The van will live outside the third bay, near the heather. Despite my declarations otherwise over the years, we will be moving the horrid sectional couch with us. We'll trash Miach's broken computer desk, and the table I've been using will go into the brewery area of the third bay. We'll probably buy a kitchen island/butcher block storage thing on wheels from Ikea, along with whatever kind of desk Miach wants in his den. As for me, I'm setting up shop in a corner of the family room. The TV will go into the living room. We'll have to get some chairs for the dining room table, as the ones I've used for over 15 years are getting wobbly and one of them broke before Christmas. I'll probably get an actual table for a desk (vs. the heavy plastic utility table I have been using), and a new chair, and a couple of Papasan chairs or something for the family room. It won't be as bad as moving here -- we have a washer and dryer and fridge already, so we won't need those. And we got a new king size mattress when we moved here, and our older queen-sized became the guest bed, so we're set for large appliances and beds. My sons are supposed to come help tomorrow, my youngest daughter will try to come help me clean up this place afterwards later in the day/evening, and our friend Sean might help, too.
Tonight is our last night here. I remember our first night here. We actually spent it in the front/guest bedroom, because the new bed hadn't been delivered yet. I was so excited about the gardens and having so much space, but I didn't think we'd be staying much more than one year. We didn't even unpack most of our boxes, which has helped a bit now, but not much. We've bought brewing stuff and sewing stuff and garb that took up the slack. Three grandkids have been born since we moved here, and the grandkids will definately miss the gardens and pathways here. They could be very adventurous and yet still safe in a fenced in yard. We had a great Easter egg hunt last spring.
We never did buy the upstairs deck furniture I kept dreaming about, or the telescope. We never got the hot tub. In fact, the gazebo for the hot tub kind of fell apart this winter, giving the yard a forlorn look. I will really miss this place. I hope that it finds someone to buy it and fix it up again. I can't begin to remember all the places I've lived. Just in the time that Miach and I have been together, there have been 4 counting our new place. But this house is one of the more memorable. I will miss coming home to my Tudor Manor and gardens.

Rest in peace, Anne

No picture with this posting, likely the last of the year. There is no picture that can encompass the enormity of this year's losses, or the trepidation with which we face the coming year, which is likely to prove just as difficult if not more so.

My own personal security is viewed with less contentment when considering the insecurities of the world, filtering down into the lives of family and friends. Life is never static, and it is also finite. We have a limited amount of time with one another, and to accomplish our goals. Come what may, we'd damn well better soldier on AND remember to stop and smell the daisies.

Miach's mother, Anne, died suddenly yesterday evening in Florida. She had been complaining since Thanksgiving of feeling short of breath, and of having no energy. She was diagnosed with asthma and given some inhalers, but Miach felt that it was something more serious going on. Frankly, I did, too. There is nothing more stressful than a death in a family during the Holidays, especially a family like Miach's, that typically hosts several out-of-town guests (including, this year, one getting treated for cancer). Yesterday was one of the worst days I can remember, and all I did was pay for an unbelievably expensive airline ticket and offer some emotional support to a guilt-ridden and shocked Miach. Because for years, I've been enabling him to avoid doing what he knows is his lot in life: being the next grown-up. His parents worked hard all their lives to provide for their kids, and they were successful to a large degree. They were immigrants, but had both gotten higher education, and they believed strongly in the value of an education. Both their sons went to college. Miach went as far as you can go in college and got a doctorate. Their daughter followed in Anne's footsteps and became a nurse, and also presented them with a much adored grandson. And then something happened, and for each child it was a different "something". My own theory, based on my personal experience, is that for a certain personality type (of which I must be an example) so long as your parents are alive, you don't feel like an adult. Not really. Because you know that if worse comes to worst, your parents will take care of you. When my mom died over 25 years ago, I looked around me and suddenly realized that I was now the adult and 4 little kids were depending on me, and I could no longer afford to waste time.
My feelings in this matter are conflicted. I have roots and family here in California that I don't want to leave. Miach's epiphany would probably involve trying to get into a medical residency program close to his Dad, in Florida or at least along the Eastern seaboard. Having lost Anne so suddenly, he is now very anxious about Arnold. Arnold, aside from being older, also has prior cardiac problems. For years, Miach has announced that he only has another few months and then he has to 'get back to work". And I've made it as easy as I could for him to not do that, and there was certainly no financial imperative. And the longer you wait, the harder it is to explain that gap in career, not to mention that you're competing for openings with much younger people.
But now, with Anne gone, too much of a burden is falling on Arnold, and one of these grown children is going to have to step up. It really is long past time.
I will always remember Anne coming home from a 12 hour shift at the nursing home, and then cooking or cleaning for another 2 hours, until she finally sank exhausted onto the couch and promptly fell asleep. Night after night during the two holiday vacations that we took to New York, this was her pattern. Arnold worked an earlier shift, 6 days a week. Meanwhile, the rest of us shopped, or went to the movies or a Broadway show, or played video games. Anne's one vice was the casinos in Atlantic City, and this unfortunately also contributed to how hard she and Arnold had to work in order to retire. She told Miach once that she intended not to leave any money behind when she left this world, and she nearly accomplished it.
Now she can at last rest.

The Lady of the Swan and Me

I like cheese. And good ale. And bread.
Perhaps it is the mystery of the symbiosis between microscopic and macroscopic in these foods that makes them so fascinating to me. Those of us who brew often claim that it is easy, but in reality it is not. It takes a lot of physical labor, even without growing or malting our own barley. And you can start with something that you believe to be a wonderful idea, and end up falling far short of the vision you held. You are at the mercy of the microscopic adjuncts, those invisible co-creators who begin to grow and multiply in the environment you have given them.

The SCA has guilds for brewing and cheesemaking, that encourage and instruct members to attempt to be as authentic as possible in their hospitable tasty endeavors. I joined the West Kingdom Cheesemakers' Guild when the Lady Aeschine Colquhoun revived it. So far, I've made cream cheese and neufchatel. I have the bacteria and molds and trays to make Brie, but I haven't tried it yet because it needs stricter temperature controls. And Lady Aeschine is also in the West Kingdom Brewers' Guild. We have never actually met in person, but we have exchanged email messages on the lists of both guilds, and obviously share a love of fermented foods.

Now, as you may recall, my consort Lord Miach of the Shire has been practicing his western martial arts prowess in the last few months. This has proven to be a real Godsend. It has encouraged him to do that male bonding thing that I really think most men need in order to be mentally and emotionally healthy. It has also encouraged him to be more pro-active in taking care of his physical well-being. He has developed muscles! And he has actually gone to see his doctor and gotten routine tests, which is kind of a miracle. For years, I've worried that he doesn't get out enough and that he doesn't have any social contacts beyond family. That worry is now a thing of the past, as he's become quite the social butterfly in the past year, since we became a part of the Shire of Mountain's Gate. As you may recall, we had been in the SCA for years prior to moving to the Shire, and we had mostly concentrated our interest in target archery and our household and close friends in the Kingdom of Caid. We had tried to fit in to a couple of other local groups, and it just didn't work out. As time has gone on, I have come to realize that the reason it didn't work out is because social events in the greater SCA all tend to revolve around Court, and Court revolves around tournament armed combat. As target archers, we were literally and figuratively on the far borders of any SCA events. Really gifted and dedicated craftspeople can get a toehold into the upper echelons, but that kind of skill and devotion is hard to develop. We tried. Miach continues to work on his Illumination skills, while I've really slacked off on my calligraphy. Miach actually won the Kingdom cooking award at the first Kingdom event we attended. And we've always been willing to volunteer for things. We probably got our Awards of Arms due to all the privies that I cleaned and meals that Miach cooked in Caid, not to mention his willingness to help out at all sorts of archery events and even to host one in Golden Rivers. But a true sense of community and friendship always eluded us until we landed in Mountain's Gate, and the smaller and more intimate group allowed us to feel that we belonged. Even at Kingdom level events, the Mountain's Gate sunshade and encampment gave us a base to hang out at and to welcome other folk into. Our contentment grew, and since there are two Knights and a Baron who are well-versed in armed combat in the Shire, and our Chatelaine is a gifted metal worker, Miach soon had a helm and shield and sword and was attending fighter practices regularly. I knew he was hooked the day I heard the epic heroic soundtrack from the "Conan" movie playing loudly, and found Miach on the exercise bike in the garage in full armor, swinging his sword.

Miach's first foray into competition was at the Golden River Pas D'arms, where he made a reasonably credible showing and exhibited a little flair for the dramatic as well. I got to carry his banner during the introductions. He had also fought as part of a group, and as a combat archer, in the Cynagua/Mists War. He had gotten some good critique and advice, and God knows he took it to heart and practiced. He also began attending fighter practice in Golden Rivers, where there were more fighters, and higher level fighters (including the current and many former Princes of Cynagua). So, at Fall Coronet he felt he was ready to actually enter "The List" (officially competing tournament fighters). He did really well, considering he's been at it for less than a year. One of the fighters he engaged and lost to was Lord Daniel de Blare, who fought like a crazed hypermonkey and just knocked the socks off everyone there, including one-shotting Sir Richard de Camville.
Lord Daniel de Blare thus won for his Lady, who is Aeschine Colquhoun (from the Cheesemakers' Guild), the title of Lady of the Swan and Crown Princess of Cynagua.
Now, this is awesome for many different reasons, but one of them is that the Lord and Lady of the Swan live in the Province of Silver Desert, which is on the far Eastern border of Cynagua. The Silver Desert folk are constantly trekking into the Central Valley of California from Nevada in order to participate in principality and Kingdom events. In Mountain's Gate, we're further away from most of the main sites for events than much of the Principality or the Kingdom, so we can relate. Miach and I were truly very pleased with the outcome. It would have been interesting if Sir Richard had won, but he's won before and he has squires and peers and all sorts of support. He used to live in The Mists, too, and that is pretty much the original SCA group. We would have offered our support, but he wouldn't have needed it, I think. (It should be noted that Sir Richard made a very impressive comeback from a bout of illness and just all-around horridness that would have likely thrown a lesser man. He nearly won the Coronet, surprising himself more than anyone else, it would seem.)

So with much goodwill I congratulated the Lady of the Swan, Her Excellency Aeschine, and revealed that Miach had enjoyed his bout with His Excellency, Lord Daniel, and offered any assistance in their endeavors.

Which is how I came to be invited to be a member of the Court of the Lady of the Swan. There is no running from the pointy hats any longer.

Wanted: Shoehorn

My youngest daughter and 2 year old granddaughter moved in with us in the last 2 weeks, nearly doubling our household and completely filling the last "guest" bedroom. We moved our SCA stuff into our master bedroom closet. Sig moved his car out of the garage, and my daughter's stuff into the garage. Since my oldest grand-daughter, who is going to college in Folsom and Sacramento, already lives with us, this effectively fills the entire house. It's a long story as to why. It has something to do with the economy, although there are lots of other reasons as well. The economy didn't help, shall we say? When people are living on the edge, as my daughter and her boyfriend have been doing for years, it doesn't take much to fall over. Her boyfriend is living with his sister. The two of them are very lucky; they live in a house that their grandparent's owned and their mother grew up in. And their mother is lucky; she lives in a house that she bought about an hour's drive away. In times like these, it would be great to have a house that you could just keep moving family into without it disrupting your actual house and routine.

Our rental agreement was of course only for Sig and myself. The owners of the property could demand that we move. I don't think they would do that, but they could. There are now 4 visible cars outside in front, and our old van in the RV camping in back. That's a lot of vehicles. Thank goodness my daughter is a neatnik, so at least I have a lot of help in keeping the house as liveable as possible. If it were my house, I'd not worry about any of that. But it's not, so I do worry.

We are only about 30 days or so into our 45 to 60 day wait to hear if the bank will accept our offer on the short sale, and already things have changed drastically for the worse. Aside from the greater economy showing obvious signs of a severe and perhaps prolonged Recession, the additional strain of gas, utilities and food for twice as many people is a burden. Frankly, I can't do it on my paycheck any longer, and my paycheck is the largest and my bills the least of my entire extended family.

If the offer is accepted, and I can still get the loan, we'll still go through with it at this point. But if it's not, then I think that's the end of the road for any hopes to keep the down payment long enough to find and put an offer on another house. There is just too much that needs to be done on too little money. My granddaughter may be able to find another job, but it was hard for her to find the one she had and the economy was booming when she did. My daughter has a job, with UPS, but it is low-paying entry level and part-time with no hope of full time for at least 3 years. It's a miracle to me that people will actually work it. I guess most do it for the benefits and the hope that they will sooner or later be promoted.

My family celebrates the end of October/beginning of November as the beginning of a new year. This has been a very disappointing year for me when family matters are the focus. I'm lucky to have friends and avocations that I find fascinating, and a career that is uplifting and meaningful.
I love my kids, and my grandkids. I don't begrudge helping them. And I foresaw that this would likely happen, so Sig and I were semi-prepared. But it still sucks.
And so much has changed in the past year that it makes me apprehensive about the coming year.

The Shire goes Camping

We went camping this weekend on a friend's family lands up in the Sierra, along with many of the denizens of the Shire of Mountain's Gate. It was very mellowing and relaxing. We had planned on being up there on Friday afternoon, but Life has been intervening lately and I was unable to be home until 6pm or so, and we knew we wouldn't make it down the back roads until it was pretty dark and cold. So we went up Saturday mid-morning.
No fires were allowed, and that was a bummer. It was also the first weekend of deer-hunting season in El Dorado County, and there were a couple groups of hunters up with us further down the road. Normally, this would make me anxious. It wasn't bad at all, though.
According to our friend, the large buck that haunts the meadow where we camped did make an appearance in the wee hours, snorting and pawing and rubbing his antlers on trees. Later in the morning, he spoke to some hunters out on the road, and they had bagged a large buck that we believe is the one from the meadow.
As always, we brought way more stuff than we needed. We spent Saturday and what time we had on Sunday sitting around and just being with our friends. I spoke a bit more with the couple that are short-selling their house (which I have put an offer on), kind of hesitantly, because I offered much less than the asking price. They're a bit puzzled that their agent hasn't held any open houses or promoted the house much. I reassured them that I had offered what I was pre-approved for (with reasonable bargaining margin), and that my offer did not reflect what I felt the property was worth to them at all. My friends are puzzled that their agent hasn't been promoting the house, but I am not; it needs work, and her commission is likely to be minimal. Their are also too many houses on the market, several in the vicinity.
My offer remains the only offer.
I still fully expect the bank to reject it. But we are now more likely by far to consider a property up in the foothills, and I anticipate ending up there.
An interesting side note, and one that was also mentioned in this article which was brought to my attention by the Sacramento Land(ing) blog, is that we were told that horses and other livestock are being abandoned by people who are also abandoning their rural properties. This came up because I was again asking for advice about browsers (like goats) and asking about upkeep and feed costs. We were told that if we are able to buy a small acreage, we will have no trouble obtaining whatever livestock we might be interested in, free.
Abandoning ANY kind of animal is heinous and immoral, but HORSES???

The Waiting

As of today, and after an additional 2 addendums by the seller's agent (mostly to make sure I understood that the ultimate sale was not in the control of her client, but was at the whim of the holder of the mortgage) we have now entered the waiting period. The papers, I am told, are now at the lender which holds the mortgage. And the average before hearing anything back on them is between 45 and 60 days.
All of which is cool with us. We're not in a big hurry.
I have concerns about the general economy, and sometimes I wonder if the terms will be anything like what we all discussed in 60 days. This doesn't really worry me too much; if things are much worse and the fundamentals of the sale are becoming more flawed, I don't have to go through with it, of course.
This is not a house I'm in love with, but it is a house and property that I feel we could work with and be relatively happy with. There is plenty of actual room, and according to the friend that owned it (nominally) , it is permitted by the county zoning folks for an additional 1600 ft of housing. Which could be another small house, an addition, a mobile home, etc. As strange as it sounds, that makes me feel better, because I always harbor the low-level notion that my children and Sig's family will somehow all end up out here. That used to be far-fetched, but it's not anymore. They'd have to sleep in trailers, of course, and there would be lots of disharmony but at least they'd have a roof over their head and food to eat.
I do find myself thinking about how various activities will fit in to the potential house, and pondering scenarios. A couple weeks ago I bought a few dozen canning jars with the odd notion that I was going to either go up to Apple Hill and buy bushels of apples or down to the Sacramento Farmer's market and buy bushels of whatever they have that's seasonal and can-able. I suspect it was more a subconscious reaction to this possible purchase of a rural house with acreage more than any burning need in the here and now. The Sig just started a batch of Cabernet Sauvignon which is currently fermenting, crushed skins and pulp included, in a new/clean 20 gallon plastic garbage bin with fitted lid. I think he started wanting to make this wine after talking to some vintners from the area of the house we're trying to buy, at a party.
The whole fermenting blob should yield about 5 gallons of actual wine, according to the Folsom Brewmeister. The wine should age for at least a year. In another month or so, we have to press the wine out of the skins, and Sig knocks the skins/pulp back down under the juice every day with a canoe paddle that he disinfects. We also have some strawberrry mead that is far from done aging.
If we end up being approved for this deal, we are going to have to move 10 gallons of fermenting beverages (which do not like to be sloshed around while still fermenting) about 40 miles. That's probably enough creative food preservation product to worry about. I don't think I'm going to be doing any canning to add to the mix. I do think it's amusing how we're each reacting to ideas that I'm sure were put into our minds by the possibility of moving onto a rural acreage across the road from a vinyard.

The Process

Well, I just signed and emailed an offer to my agent on the House in Hangtown. The asking price is 279K and I offered 230K. I was actually kinda surprised that it wasn't shot down immediately by the seller's agent, but we were told that no other offers had been made so far (it's been about a month on the market now) and to go ahead and submit and "see what happens". That, to me, is a clear sign of the general market right now, because a year or so ago people were taking offense and being insulted by offers that much lower than asking price.

So far, this has been the timeline: Friends mention selling house to us about 5 weeks ago during camping trip, the following week the Sig takes me up to look at the house (he'd already seen it while helping friends collect tools from it), the following week I think it over. Late in that week, I contact the agent that I'd decided I'd contact if I was ever looking to buy again, and he offered to write up an offer that day --- but I didn't know if I could get financing, given the current lending climate. I had two options: my friends gave me a mortgage broker's name that used to work with them, and my agent had a guy he felt was honest and trustworthy. I went with the agent's guy, David, and over the course of another 10 days faxed him my financial information and he submitted it and I was approved. I could have been approved for more, but my down payment is, indeed, paltry.
I notified my agent that I was approved, and gave him all my info and the additional stuff that David had figured up about closing costs, and he then contacted the seller's agent to see if it was worthwhile writing it up, which it evidently was. He faxed forms, I read and thought again for a day, and signed and faxed back today.

Meanwhile I've been seeking advice from anyone who will give it on how to manage a small acreage. Among things I have learned:
Goats will climb on everything, including your car, and poop.
Goats in milk need to be milked every day, which means you can't take weekend trips.
Goats are easy to take care of, and keep your property pretty clear of underbrush and weeds.
It's good to have an "outside" dog to guard your property.
Small dogs and cats can't ever be outside on their own, mostly due to hunting raptors and owls.
Wells are GOOD.
Wells are BAD.
Septic systems are complicated and can have problems if you're not careful.
Septic systems are simple and you won't have any problems if you don't put stuff in them that doesn't belong there.
Some husbands have never pulled a weed in their lives and wouldn't know what to do without a tractor.
Tractors are GOOD.
You don't need a tractor, but you do need SOMETHING to haul stuff around; an ATV with wagon attachment would work fine.
It's good to have a woodlot, and with careful management it will replenish itself. Which is very good, because firewood is expensive.
A rifle or two is mandatory. There are lions and bears. And possibly methheads.
It's OK to shoot a deer that is poaching your fruit, but you'd better know how to clean it. Do not email pictures of yourself holding any kind of recently deceased game animal to your friends with the heading, "What do I do now?"
Your friends will be there for you, with tools and advice, if you need help.

So far, the one thing that everyone agrees on is that they have enjoyed living in the foothills. One friend even opined that caring for a small acreage might actually be less difficult than caring for our current rental gardens, especially if we adopt the philosophy that the goal of successful land ownership in rural areas is to keep the land as close to natural as possible while maintaining fire safety.
Oh, and ponies are EVIL.