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June 30, 2005
Building the Perfect Ranchero
Our ranchito is taking shape, at least in our minds' eye. I still wonder and worry about where all our possessions will go when we arrive; one of the nice things about houses with basements and attics is that you do not have to look at boxes all the time. It may be a while until our living spaces are free of cardboard clutter. The present incarnation of our imaginary home (which will become distinctly less imaginary once I see it in person on Tuesday) is insufficent. Roomie's plan is to arrange for someone we know and like to buy the place next door which was owned by the same people and would make a delightful addition to the compound. We would love to be able to buy both and keep them together, but the other house is about 100k more than we can afford to spend. From my self-interested perspective the 2+ car garage is nice but we do not need more bathrooms and kitchens. By the way, the house next door includes its own casita.
The current ideal plan is to construct (a) a quonset-style structure to serve as motorcycle shop and storage and (b) a purpose-built studio on the southern end of the lot. The studio would face north¹ and look out on the open space to the adobe buildings. We like the Rocio Romero structures; the Base Camp seems a little large for the lot and the Fish Camp a little small for both of us to have clean workspaces in it.
It occurs to me that an adobe-style studio might be a nice alternative to a Romero building. Perhaps we can salvage some large industrial windows and large beams to span the openings. Rather than be constrained by Romero's predefined sizes (12'*12' for the Fish Camp and 15'*37½' for the Base Camp) we could make the spaces just the way we like them.
The addition of the two structures (the first of which is pretty much non-negotiable) would also free up the casita to be a delightful guest-house / screening room. In such a case, the kitchen there makes all kinds of sense: guests can make a late night or early morning cup of tea, and Roomie and I can have the all-important popcorn making station.
¹ Traditional pueblo architecture favors north-facing windows because they admit a lot of indirect (and hence cooler) light, because the sun comes from the south. Northern entrances are also more protected from the weather since rain and wind also tend to blow from the south. Artists favor northern light because it does not shift throughout the day (imagine the paintbrush and canvas as sun-dial). This intersection of interests may explain part of the attraction of artists to traditional southwestern architecture.
Posted by Underblog at 7:07 AM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
June 29, 2005
Getting Things Done
The past 24 hours have been something of a whirlwind of errands; I have so far checked off the following:
- Pack boxes of books.
- Call the realtor and the title company to arrange delivery of the Abstract of Title.
- Find and assemble the three papers I need to revise for my Master's.
- Take car to dealer to have antenna fixed and get estimate for steering rack and fluid leak.
- Clip some stray grape and Virginia Creeper vines.
- Mow lawn.
- Whack weeds along borders.
- Dismantle exer-cycle, move it to the garage, and reassemble the thing in preparation for the garage sale.
That is enough for now, isn't it?
Posted by Underblog at 7:03 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
June 27, 2005
Destiny
I really enjoyed reading Antonia Fraser's Cromwell: Lord Protector (thanks Andy!). She paints a mostly sympathetic portrait of a man who had greatness sort of thrust upon him. According to Fraser, Cromwell was a big believer in the Will of God; he would await a sign, or when this or that happened, he would take it as a sign.
A friend of mine has been diagnosed with a fairly rare disease which apparently only affects women. She seems to be in pretty good spirits about it, but it must be awfully unnerving to confront a lifelong course of treatment.
In my own life, I was really hoping that I would easily find a job at the U. in Albuquerque. I may yet end up there, but it will not be as easy as I had once hoped.
I suppose that we hope that even the bad things in life happen for a purpose. Small defeats make subsequent successes taste that much more sweet. Knowing this does not make going slogging through the low times any easier however. And what kind of a sign can life's punishments great and small mean for us? Do we give into the "signs" or do we do our best to prove them wrong?
Posted by Underblog at 7:24 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
June 26, 2005
Buyer's Remorse
Seems like we bought the farm. Or the Ranchero. Defintely a pickup truck kind of place: See for yourself.
The two of us fit neatly in a four-bedroom house with a 2½ car garage, attic and full basement; now we get to see what the same amount of junk looks like in a one bedroom house, guest cottage, and a smattering of sheds, a tiny garage, and a chicken coop. Wish us luck.
Posted by Underblog at 9:04 AM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
June 18, 2005
Raccoons
Shortly before we moved out of our Takoma Park house, we noticed that a family of raccoons had moved into the giant willow oak out front. At night, you could see two adults and four babies climbing up the trunk of the tree. During the day, an outstretched foot, leg, or arm would sometimes be visible poking out of the knothole where they sleeped. We and our neighbors entertained ourselves by watching them poke their head out of the hole.
Last night, I was discussing with our neighbors here the neighborhood raccoon, who happens to live nearby. Just then, we see their dog chase the raccoon under the deck next door. An on-demand raccoon appearance; perhaps his ears were burning. In any case, we were a little concerned that the raccoon was out and about when it was still light out.
But odd nonetheless that we seem to move during raccoon-spotting season. Perhaps this phenomenon explains why I moved so much in San Francisco; raccoons were always out and about there.
Posted by Underblog at 6:10 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
June 9, 2005
A Million Tiny Heartbreaks
Roomie and I thought we had found our ideal Albuquerque house the other day. It was located in a neighborhood we like (between downtown and the Rio Grande), it was an older home with viga-and-tongue-and-groove ceilings and a kiva fireplace in the living room, and the price was definitely right. Unfortunately, by the time our realtor had gone out there to take a look to confirm its perfection, it had already sold. "Do you want me to send the pictures I took anyway?" asked the realtor. No, Roomie replied, it would only hurt us more.
It is a truism that only the things you care about can break your heart. I guess we care about real estate right now, for our hearts are currently broken.
We look forward to spending another stretch of days in Albuquerque, househunting either together or not. How this will work is still unclear. Will I go it alone ala RT's Bozeman acquisition or will the two of us return as the dynamic real-estate duo of past buying adventures? Applications close tomorrow for the job I applied for last week. At the risk of sounding overenthusiastic I plan on making a few calls early next week. We have a slightly broken heart in need of mending.
Posted by Underblog at 8:10 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
June 7, 2005
Orphaned Bunny
I have noted here that one of the things I like about the East and the Midwest is the fact that we get to see bunnies. Not the large jackrabbits that Mookie used to chase in the vineyards in California, but rather the silent and often still cute little bunnies that destroy hostas.
My neighbor has a warren next to his house. He pointed out this little orphan next to our house; he had been separated from the rest of the warren. This brought up the dilemma of what to do with orphaned animals. The bunny sat where our neighbor found him for the longest time until one of the neighborhood kids scooped him up and returned him to the warren. Upon a little reflection, it now seems presumptuous for anyone to assume that the warren is where the bunny should be. Perhaps the stray was sick and will now infect the entire warren. But then again, perhaps he was simply lost and confused. Orphaned baby animals arouse such pathos that they can make humans feel that they can and should control Nature.
I haven't seen a baby bunny body around yet today, but I suppose the crows would take care of that.
Posted by Underblog at 7:16 AM | Comments (5) | TrackBack