Skip to main content

The Thrill of the Move


 When I show people my house and share my ideas for it people ask me two questions.

1) Are you crazy?

2) How much did it cost?


     Well, the answer to the first question is quite easy. Yes, we are crazy, lunatics even to take on such a project with zero clue how to do anything. We rely on this old house, you tube video's and God's grace. Sometime the situation leans a lot more heavily on Gods grace but we get it done.  Most of the time we can muddle thru it.

      I say we, I really mean Chad. I might be the dreamer in this scenario but he is the executer of dreams. I get a crazy idea and he takes it in stride and figures out how to bring that to fruition. I have flung many weirdo crack pot ideas in his direction and some how, he figures it out. He also has this amazing superhero way of knowing what ideas I am serious about and when I am just musing.  It's like I'm married to my very own magical being. For those of you who know us, I bet none of you could picture Chad doing the things he is doing now and I could not be more proud to be his wife. Now if you know me you already know I'm crazy and that I've been taking about leaving society to be an off grid pumpkin farmer for years. To early to tell if that will come true, guess you will all have to keep reading to find out. 

     The answer to the second question is a bit more complicated because I actually don't have a clue. I can tell you that even with the deal of the century on the structure we still had to pay to move it. Then there was the cost of the new roof and an addition, a water well and the list goes on and on. I'm not really interested in getting a deal here though. I knew full well that the bulk of my disposable income for the foreseeable future would go to the house. What we faced with this structure is very similar to those who buy metal barns and convert them. We had walls and a roof ,endless possibilities and the rest was up to us. In some places we didn't even have floors! 

     What people don't ask me is ,What are you getting out of this?  Well, that answer evolves every single day. There is no value to the things we have learned taking on this project. I could go on for years about the structural things we have learned, but none of that will come close to the spiritual stuff . That evolution also started far before we got to Snyder. 

       I worry a lot about how my kids are doing because we all gave up a significant amount of creature comforts to go thru with this. At the time of this writing we still do not have the upstairs finished and we are all living on one floor trying to make the best use of the space while we get the kids rooms complete. Honestly though, the kids have been fine  I dare say they have been happier. They took each new situation in stride and as long as we had an answer for how we would handle it, they have done okay. There have been some rough spots and there have been tears, mostly my tears ,while we figured out how to overcome each new obstacle. Oh there have been so many, I know that Ill never tell all of the crazy stuff we have faced and we are not even half done.  

     My  younger daughter is 14 and behind that witty, sarcastic cackle is an old soul. One evening when we were hanging out by the barn she started talking about " When I inherit this place..." I almost started to cry. We laughed about all the little idiosyncrasies in the house. There are too many to count. I refer to the pocket door in the bathroom as Satan's pocket door because of the amount of religion lost between Chad and I while trying to get the damn thing installed. We talked about how there will not be one inch of the house that doesn't have a memory attached to it. I thought about my grandmothers house and how it felt to run my hand down the banister, or the smell of the books that stood in stacks all over the place. I  just wanted my kids to have something that gives them that kind of comfort and peace.  

     This conversation was my proof that we had done everything right even in the midst of the guilt I felt about how I asked them to give things up in order to make this move and embark on this quest.  They are a large part of this healing journey too. They have watched us battle self doubt and the stagnation that results from just being paralyzed by certain situations. They have seen us problem solve and find creative solutions when things were not going well or contractors were not treating our situation with the urgency we thought it deserved. I am hoping that this ends a cycle for all of us and that we all come out grounded and centered and with the knowledge that when you find something you are passionate about anything is possible. You may have to take some unconventional detours, but eventually you will get where you need to go.

     In this episode of this old house we will explore how one relocates a home! The crew at Bigham house movers worked all day to prepare the structure for moving. They braced walls on the inside and moved back and forth between where the house was sitting to where it was going to make sure the space was ready. Even though square foot wise the house is quite small, it is very tall so we they had to plan a route that hopefully would not include moving power lines . Luckily we could do this without that added hassle and expense.  My friends helped me a lot with picking out where we would put it the house. I wanted the best possible view of the little valley from my future front porch. They also helped level out the site and take down a section of fencing so we could move the house into place. 

     This was a very nerve wrecking process to say the least. There was a part of me that was worried the house would just fall apart on the way and as I followed my house down the highway I'm not sure I took a breath until we arrived at the property. I believe that the house has been moved three times since is was built in 1901. I'm still trying to do some research on the structure. I only have a piece of paper that was laminated on the wall when we bought it telling some rudimentary history, and the story of a lady who just happened to show up  and told us her grandfather built the house.



Once we got to the property they maneuvered it into position and started the work of leveling. It is on a pier and beam foundation so they had to place concrete blocks underneath the support structure of the house and then level it. The house is slightly bowed due to sitting on an uneven surface for a number of years so it isn't exactly squared up. in fact if there is a perfect right angle anywhere in this house I would be stunned. I guess its a good thing I like a challenge! 


    After everyone had gone for the day and the hustle and bustle of the days events died down. I just sat out there by my property and enjoyed the fact that I was now both a landowner, and a homeowner in an official capacity. I had managed to achieve something I used to believe I did not deserve. Together we had made big decisions for our own betterment and the betterment of our family. This is the beginning of our legacy. I hope one day to be the grandmother humming to my grandchildren while cooking spaghettio's.I hope that for years to come my children and grandchildren will enjoy walking the fence line and exploring the many critters and wildflowers they find on the way.  To quote the Grateful Dead, What a long strange trip it's been, and it's only the beginning.  Don't they look cute together?

October 24th 2016











Comments

  1. I would never ask if you are crazy... I already know you are! and it is one of the reasons i love you !

    ReplyDelete
  2. The house and the barn DO look like they belong together!!!! I love you, you crazy, house-moving hippie!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Final Nail in the Coffin of my Civility.(Who’s Afraid of Little old me, Heather’s Version)

In my life I have tried always to be understanding and kind. I am the poster child for “You never know what might be going on at home.” I have given my fair share of grace and more to situations where I was grievously injured and spent years trying to figure out why I was constantly being used as a doormat for everyone’s poor choices. I was always made to feel so ashamed about my situation when it wasn't my situation to be responsible for to begin with. This is about to be really uncomfortable for a lot of people, but I need you all to understand something. I am passionate about women’s rights, affordable housing, police accountability, and support programs because of my mothers story, and then the story I heard from my own grandmothers lips during my divorce, and then my story which is a collective of not only my own trauma, but the generational trauma I have experienced through the limited choices of the women in my life. If you are a traditional spouse and that life is everythin...
      Once upon a time there was a little girl who loved to go to her Great Aunts farm in the Missouri River Valley. I spent those days lounging in the garden, chasing chickens and picking strawberries. It seemed like a magical place to me and I cherish every single memory.       My aunt was not chatty. I don't remember her ever being young. She was always stooped over and small in stature, lines on her face and tiny hands. She kept her hair in a high chignon, paired with a simple house dress and apron. Her style was practical and simple, but feminine. I was often told that my Uncle would not allow her to do the hard work of the farm, that labor was a mans duty. She was in her late 70's when I was born and worked harder than any person I knew. I often wondered what the men were doing out there in the pasture that was so difficult. She churned butter and made candied apples from scratch. Her home always smelled of  rising bread and brewed coffee. The ha...

In these Unprecedented Times : Surving Healthcare Post Pandemic.

  Hello again. It seems he keyboard has been calling for a few weeks and today I finally - after days of rolling around the juices in my brain - I think I have finally figured out how to say something that has been on my mind for several months now. This post is dedicated to all my friends in healthcare, the unsung heroes of everyday. Not just the days when we are all over the news during pandemics, but in those moments while we are getting spat at, and kicked by grannies and grampies, and cursed at, and denied breaks in the interest of capital gain. We are heroes on the days when we cry on the way to work and sit in our cars in the driveway blasting some song when we get home. We are heroes as we sit there in that driveway for 20 minutes because we need to shake off the energies of the shift and take off the mask we wear to hide our inner gangster in front of our charges. We are the heroes who showed up. We continue to show up. We are terribly insane, but I love us. Thank you....