Visitors 

Last night, we were blessed with some awesome visitors.  My son from another mother and his Lady Fair came with their mechanical beast of burden and three animal side kicks.

It was fantastic to see them as they have their own major move, even farther than ours.

So we had our New Year’s dinner early and stayed up to the wee hours.  Good company, good food and good conversation.  Can life get any better?

Well, it could have for our own cats, unfortunately.  While DaBoy would probably have settled in with our animal visitors fairly well, especially since we shared our home with the two cats for some time, his mama was far less tolerant.  When she saw the dog, much to my surprise, she didn’t run off.  No, she was the one who was going to chase him!  The poor dog was just trying to be friendly, too, but she would have none of it.

After much crashing and banging and knocking over of things, we had to close up our own cats into the office for the night.  We moved their food, water and litter in with them, of course, and would pop in to give them some loving, but they were not happy campers.  Mama has always been more of a bundle of nerves than her much more laid back son, but her frazzled mood rubbed off on him a bit, too.  I don’t think I’ve ever heard him growl before!  Even while they were on my work table, where a bed was set up for them, and I pet them, she wouldn’t stop prowling back and forth, in between freezing and staring at the space under the door.  She could tell when the other cats were in the hall, no matter how quiet they were.  And if the sound of a dog coming down the hall reached her, the growling would start as well.

That cat just doesn’t know how to chill.

Our animal guests, however, were much more relaxed.

Just look at those eyes!  What a dream of a dog.

Despite having cats for so many years, we’re actually kinda dog people.  We just haven’t been able to have dogs for one reason or another, but somehow managed to have lots of cats.

 

Getting a dog is definitely one of our plans.  Until do finally do, we get to love on other people’s dogs.  Like this beautiful beast.  Such a gentleman, too!

The cats enthusiastically explored every nook and cranny they could, and disappeared a few times in the process.  I think they still remembered us, but it has been long enough that they weren’t quite comfortable enough for cuddles.  At least not from us.  But we at least got to pet them, eventually.

Sharing some love.

And of course, they got cuddles from their human.  They are so hilarious.  They just love being held like babies and snuggled close.

They also found the catnip pillows to play with, which was quite hilarious to watch.

Getting photos, however, was a challenge!  They hardly ever stayed still long enough.  Plus, with a black dog and a black cat, they are notoriously difficult to get photos of.

“Get that thing out of my face, or else!”

They tend to be just black blurs, so I’m happy to have managed a few good shots with my phone camera.

One of the cats, however, knows what’s going on when that phone comes out, and does NOT like getting her photo taken!  Not even while getting cuddles.

Can you imagine road tripping across the country with these three?  Awesome!

It was a grand visit, all round.  I am so glad they were able to stop by and stay the night.  Who knows how long it will be before we can see each other again, in person.

The Re-farmer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Picture
Picture

Window woes

Lots of stuff in this house is very old.  I don’t even know how old some things in the Old Part are, as I don’t know when it was originally built.

One of the good things is that we have excellent new windows in most of the rooms.

Most.

For some reason, my mother insisted that the big window in the master bedroom did not need to be replaced.

This would be the window that’s now about our heads as we sleep.

The following photo shows what’s going on in one half of it. Continue reading →

Getting Started on Starter 

There is a fair bit of variety of sourdough starter recipes.  The first one we made used potato water – an unpeeled potato boiled until soft, then mashed into its own cooking water – as the liquid.

In essence, though, getting a new starter going is just flour and water, left to sit.  Anything else is just bonus.

Of course, there are a few basic requirements that need to be followed.

So if you are not fortunate enough to be able to get some established sourdough starter from someone, here is what you need to start your own. Continue reading →

The Good, The … oh F****

Well, now.

First the good stuff.

I have awesome brothers.  I phoned my younger brother today and asked if I could borrow their van for about a week.  Just until it warmed up and I could get our own van to the garage next week.  He said yes, and this allowed me to do the shopping for the month.  We have FINALLY been able to stock up on the basics and necessities.

Unfortunately…

Continue reading →

Well, Crud

Today was supposed to be a bit warmer – the high was to be a balmy -20C this afternoon. After that, it’s supposed to scream back down again for the next few days, so I thought I would try again for a trip into town.

The van started no problem, but after about half a minute, it started making noises.

Different noises. Continue reading →

Didn’t quite make it

My older daughter and I were going to make a run into town today.

We decided against it.

The van started fine and we let the engine warm up before we started, but as I backed out of the garage, I was just not comfortable with how the engine sounded.  So back into the garage it went and I plugged it back in.

We depend on that van too much for me to take any chances.

This is what we’re looking at for the next while. Continue reading →

Slaying the paper monster

I like to think we made good progress today. The office is basically done; what’s left is stuff that needs to go elsewhere, not sorted or packed.

Then my daughter and I tackled a stack of boxes in the second floor hallway.  These had been stored in the laundry room until the hot water tank died, flooding the floor enough to damage a couple of them before I caught it and hit the shut off valve.  After cleaning up the mess and getting the tank replaced, they just never made it back into the laundry room.

I have discovered something about myself today.

Apparently, I never throw out bills.

Or notices.

Or bank statements.

Or receipts and newsletters and classroom materials or forms…

These boxes were still unpacked from our last move, when we went from a 3 bedroom townhouse to the 5 bedroom townhouse we are in now.  There was 6 of us at the time. Of all my moves, this one was the worst. We all got sick with colds and what should have taken a leisurely few days became a week that ended with us just throwing things into boxes and bins and dragging them over the half block to our new home.

We had a very large desk back then, and it would not fit with the new layout, so we passed it on.  The contents got thrown into boxes, but we never had a place to unpack them. So in the laundry room they sat, virtually untouched.

Until today.

As my daughter and I went through them, almost everything went into bins or bags for garbage, recycling, Goodwill or ReUse Centre. Oh, and the Eco-station. We seemed to collect old power and USB cables and cords.  Almost nothing was kept.

By far, the largest portion had to be shredded. I found old utility bills from before we moved into the Co-op. There were credit card statements for cards we haven’t had for years. Some of the utility bills were the first to encourage people Go! Online! to pay their bills.

I was even finding hand written prescriptions from 2003-2004, when we lived in another province.

And tax stuff that should have been shredded years ago.

The tax stuff made sense, but why did I keep all those classroom materials from when I taught crochet? I haven’t taught formal classes in over 5 years!  Class outlines. Sign up sheets. Pattern notes. Evaluation forms.

So. Much. Paper.

Some of it made sense to keep for a few years, and since they were in the boxes, there they stayed. But much of it, I don’t know why I kept them.  Shredding from just these 4 boxes filled about 5 garbage bags!  And there was still the stuff that went into recycling. Plus, this is after many, many more bags of shredded paper from the office and even some ground floor stuff.

As stressful as this move is becoming, finally slaying the paper monster is turning out to be a huge benefit.

The Re-farmer

One down

Well, it’s official. I have completely finished clearing one room on the second floor. (My daughter has pretty much finished the entire 3rd floor.) It is now going to hold boxes that are packed and ready for the movers, as well as a few other things.  Not the box spring in the photo, though.  It’s damaged, and is waiting to be hauled out, along with two others we discovered were broken.

One of the things my mother dangled in front of us to entice us to move was the offer to pay for the movers.  She has followed through with that promise, to our great appreciation.  It simply would not be possible, otherwise.

The problem is that, because of the shortened time line, things we expected to be able to set money aside for slowly, over several months, aren’t going to happen.  What we have is it. There is no more coming in until after the move. Our total of funds must not only cover the cost of the movers, basic living expenses (like groceries at both ends of the move), stocking up on prescriptions until we can get a new doctor, etc, but also the extra costs in fuel for the drive out, travel food, and those million and one little things that add up, unexpectedly. I’ve moved often enough to know what to expect.

Movers charge by weight.  I got estimates based on the average weight for a 5 bedroom home, which is about 10,000 pounds.  We are going to a smaller home, so I got updated estimates for the smaller size, since we would have to pare things down.  Based on those numbers, we should be good. Even including the weight of our heirloom piano, plus surcharges for the piano and the (soon to be empty) aquarium.

Then I got two in home estimates. One by estimated weight, the other a flat rate.

Despite pointing out all the stuff we would NOT be taking with us (almost all the furniture, plus a lot of other stuff we would be getting rid of), we were still told the weight would be 10,000 – 12,000 pounds.  When I questioned that, I was told he had been doing this for 20 years and was sure, based on experience.  I also asked for the cost of a full pack, which was based on the same weight. The base cost alone was more than we have. The packing fee was completely out of budget.

The flat rate guy was actually a higher base cost, because he factored in the distance, plus packing fees were an hourly rate. And he estimated two days to pack everything.

We aren’t going with either company.

My older daughter and I have been purging like crazy. The only way to bring the cost down is to bring the weight down. Between the boxes and bins and bags we have already given away, donated, shredded and thrown out, I’m a bit surprised by how little is left to pack.  And some if it will be going with us in the van for the drive out, not with the movers. We will also be packing as much as possible ourselves, so that if there is anything left for the movers to pack, it won’t add more than a couple hundred dollars.

In my head, I know there is no way this move is going to be 10,000 pounds. I doubt we were ever that much to begin with.  We should be fine.

That isn’t stopping me from being in an almost constant state of low anxiety over it.

For the most part, I can look at the explosion that is the current state of our home, and know that most of what we are sifting through is not going with us. Intellectually, I know we will be fine.  And I know I tend to over estimate. The last time we had stuff hauled between provinces, I had estimated the weight and figured the cost out to be $1000.  The reality turned out to be half that. But in the back of my head is that constant niggling paranoia.  Those two high estimates are completely overriding the much more reasonable estimates I got.

In the end, we will not know for sure until the movers go through the government scales, which is what they use to base the final cost on.

And that uncertainty is like a worm, wriggling away in the back of my mind.

All I can do is just keep on purging.

The Re-farmer.