We've been going up to the house almost every weekend now. The routine is to get up early enough to beat the beach traffic, grab a bagel, stop by the storage unit and load up the car, then drive up and putter. I guess you could call it the slowest move ever. Since we can't do much on the house proper, we are taking advantage of the quiet time to sort through our belongings. They simply won't all fit into a 576 square foot house. I imagine there will be regular postings of free or cheap things for offer on Facebook.
Last weekend, we took some time - in long pants and boots - to stomp around the property. We found a very nice stump, which I promptly dubbed the Thinking Stump. It's a lovely place to sit and think. Or not think. Today, Charles started clearing more of a path to the Stump for easier access. If you come up, you should try it out. Veddy Nize.
Earlier this week, we received a note from the Water District asking us to please clear the meter so they could read it. Oddly, the meter is not on our property, but we figured we'd play nice. We moved roughly two cords of wood, stacking it neatly on either side of our drive. For awhile, it felt like we may never find the water meter, and it reminded me of a joke:
A man is in prison and writes regularly with his wife. In a recent letter, she told him that some officials had been asking additional questions about his case and generally nosing about. He wrote back, "Whatever you do, don't let them in the backyard. That's where I buried the rest of the bodies." A couple of weeks later, the wife replies, "Thanks, dear. They came and dug up the whole backyard. Now I can get that garden going!"
Surely, someone somewhere just wanted this wood pile moved for some other reason.
We did find it eventually with a little help. A couple of friends stopped by to visit, one of whom happened to bring gloves. Thanks! I also thought it was amusing that they should roll up while we were stacking wood at our new mountain home. It was a nice little workout and now the pile looks a lot neater. All of that work was so we could uncover this, which was in the middle of the biggest part of the pile. Of course.
We met a couple more friends for lunch at Burger 9. Normally, it is a perfectly fine dining experience, but they were completely slammed with Labor Day weekend traffic, along with being across from the Santa Cruz Mountains Art & Wine Festival. They were definitely in over their heads. Tummies finally full, we went back to the house, sorted through the current load of boxes, cleared a little brush, and meandered home.
To read ABC #1, go here.
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