Sept 08
Did you feel that? Hell has just frozen over – obviously – as Jer’s just announced that he’s selling his beloved motorcycle and Element. To buy a tractor. And junky old truck. It’s finally happened. We’ve become so cliché. You know…just another twenty-something suburbanite couple trading their luxury vehicles for pickups and running off to the sticks for solitude and sustainability. No? Was “cliché” the wrong word there?
I spent the morning flirting with the local ag exempt agent in order to get rid of the high dollar property taxes associated with land in this county. All this schooling and only my inherent feminine charms will have any future value. Not that it took much charm. Apparently the guy’s a sucker for hearing a woman giggle while inquiring about pound per hoof ratios and the amount of cow droppings necessary to indicate recent grazing. Oh, the multi-faceted and twisted world of agriculture.
I guess this means we bought the land, right? And that everything’s moving forward, and I’m dropping out of school, Jer’s quitting his silly job and we’re moving into the dilapidated mobile home the previous owners kindly left on the property? Not quite.
So we saw the land. We saw the encouraging developments nearby (beautiful new park across the street complete with two, 2!!!, soccer fields), we analyzed the distance from the land and the nearest coffee shop (12.2 miles – acceptable), and we, quite literally, fell in love. Next steps included a frantic search for financing and a frantic hike through all 10 acres which turned out to be half junkyard, half forest and, actually, 15 acres. Acknowledging the enormity of the land’s potential along with the enormity of the work it would require, we made an offer. This offer included a series of attached stipulations:
a. Seller will move septic tank off land
b. Seller will help Buyer maintain the shared driveway
c. Seller will pay for land cleanup
d. ALL land cleanup
e. Even the circa 1983 taxicab parked on our potential homesite.
f. Seller will keep his/her innovative “bathtub” garden within the confines of his/her own property. Which would require moving the bathtub that also resides on future homesite.
g. Please? And thank you.
As expected, the sellers enthusiastically (*read*: sarcasm) agreed to our terms, although we elected to make a last minute addendum.
h. Seller will NOT tear down the bright purple shed/stable/pen contraption within which another bathtub is located.
Because, come on, you never know when you’ll need another bathtub. In a purple shed.
Did you feel that? Hell has just frozen over – obviously – as Jer’s just announced that he’s selling his beloved motorcycle and Element. To buy a tractor. And junky old truck. It’s finally happened. We’ve become so cliché. You know…just another twenty-something suburbanite couple trading their luxury vehicles for pickups and running off to the sticks for solitude and sustainability. No? Was “cliché” the wrong word there?
I spent the morning flirting with the local ag exempt agent in order to get rid of the high dollar property taxes associated with land in this county. All this schooling and only my inherent feminine charms will have any future value. Not that it took much charm. Apparently the guy’s a sucker for hearing a woman giggle while inquiring about pound per hoof ratios and the amount of cow droppings necessary to indicate recent grazing. Oh, the multi-faceted and twisted world of agriculture.
I guess this means we bought the land, right? And that everything’s moving forward, and I’m dropping out of school, Jer’s quitting his silly job and we’re moving into the dilapidated mobile home the previous owners kindly left on the property? Not quite.
So we saw the land. We saw the encouraging developments nearby (beautiful new park across the street complete with two, 2!!!, soccer fields), we analyzed the distance from the land and the nearest coffee shop (12.2 miles – acceptable), and we, quite literally, fell in love. Next steps included a frantic search for financing and a frantic hike through all 10 acres which turned out to be half junkyard, half forest and, actually, 15 acres. Acknowledging the enormity of the land’s potential along with the enormity of the work it would require, we made an offer. This offer included a series of attached stipulations:
a. Seller will move septic tank off land
b. Seller will help Buyer maintain the shared driveway
c. Seller will pay for land cleanup
d. ALL land cleanup
e. Even the circa 1983 taxicab parked on our potential homesite.
f. Seller will keep his/her innovative “bathtub” garden within the confines of his/her own property. Which would require moving the bathtub that also resides on future homesite.
g. Please? And thank you.
As expected, the sellers enthusiastically (*read*: sarcasm) agreed to our terms, although we elected to make a last minute addendum.
h. Seller will NOT tear down the bright purple shed/stable/pen contraption within which another bathtub is located.
Because, come on, you never know when you’ll need another bathtub. In a purple shed.
1 comment:
pecah palakmu ga bolehkan aku komen !!
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