Racing weather and seasons, we stumbled out the gate. 

Groundbreaking was scheduled for Monday, August 2^nd.  I had the bright idea to introduce myself and Sunny to my near neighbors before kicking up dust.  I made up cards letting people know who we were and how to get in touch, taking them door-to-door with an offering of home-roasted Thai-spiced cashews.

First stop was the house with the transformer I’ll be linking to.  Erika and Will were out on their deck enjoying the afternoon when I told them the excavator would start work on the utility line next morning. Glancing around for the transformer, I found it newly tucked behind some very recent landscaping, including a boulder as tall as I am.  Their smiles faded as I explained.

Next up, a visit to the neighbors directly across the street from my home-to-be.  The door opened before I could leash Sunny and knock.  I stuttered an introduction. Sunny ran into the house. Their little dog Ziggy took issue with her impudence. They scuffled, Ziggy ran out, Sunny followed. They raced off, returning to the porch in full chaos. I stepped on Ziggy. “Lovely to have met you….”

As I turned to the next house, the Sheriff pulled up and was on his way to the door just ahead of me.  Enough.

Monday came, but the excavator didn’t.

When the excavator says he will be there, he isn’t. When he says he won’t be there, he is. He was next scheduled for Thursday. No excavator. Then the timeline got pushed to Monday, with two days of utility line digging before the lot would be dug. My friends Karen and Jon had decided to move a pluot tree from my lot into their orchard. I told them they were safe until the following Wednesday. I had hoses hooked to their water to try to coddle my beautiful young Sequoia in advance of work that would impact its roots.  But by Friday afternoon, a day when no work was scheduled, the pluot, two hoses, a sprayer and a water timer were lost to the giant claws.  

The excavators came Monday and returned again Tuesday, when they said they would be on vacation, displacing an arborist I’d asked to come. But all is forgiven: by noon they got the water line in, the foundation trenched, and we’re back on schedule!

The excavator is scheduled to (not?) return next Monday to finish up.

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Roasted Thai Lime-Chile Cashews

• 4 cups raw cashews
• 10-15 dried chiles de árbol, seeded
• 10-15 makrut (Thai) lime leaves, cut into 1/4″ slices
• 2 tablespoons melted unsalted butter
• 2 tablespoons melted coconut oil
• 1 tablespoon kosher salt
• 1 teaspoon ground ancho chiles
• 2 tablespoons finely grated lime zest  (optional)

Preheat oven to 325°F. Combine the ingredients excluding the lime zest in a large bowl; toss to coat. Spread in an even layer on a large rimmed baking sheet. Roast for 8 minutes and turn; continue roasting another 8-12 minutes until cashews are fragrant and just starting to color. Set the baking sheet on a wire rack until completely cool. If using the lime zest, transfer nuts to a bowl and toss with the zest. Supposedly these nuts store well in an airtight container for days, but I can’t attest to that. 

Don’t expect the drama of City-Girl-Falls-in-Love-with-Mountain-Man-and-Moves-to-Alaska. And don’t mistake Groundbreaking News for Housebreaking News — No New Puppies! This is a photo-journal of the construction of my home-to-be for a few friends who have asked to follow along through the process.

It was July 2019 when I decided to sell Blue Moon Stead and move into town. I had for years thought I would spend a lifetime stewarding that lovely farm and wildland, even after Gary’s passing, but things were changing. In 2018, my lovely Ella died at age 13, after doing her best to help me raise little Sundog. Later that year serendipity connected me with a veterinarian who is breeding the critically endangered Dales Ponies. I re-homed Bess and Duchess with her, reuniting them with their full sister as well as with Bess’s daughter. I knew they could be so much more than the pasture pets they’d become once I found myself alone without a mentor in things equestrian. https://cascadiaheritagefarm.com/breed/dales-mares-2/

When my farmer-tenant left in 2019, I had to decide whether to make a long-term commitment to a new farm family. As much as I loved that place and miss it still, it was overwhelming. So much to do, so few do-it-yourself skills! As I made more friends through the years, I was spending a lot of time driving to and from town. I sold Blue Moon Stead just as the pandemic was hitting, finishing my move days before the movers were declared non-essential during lockdown. Dear friends rented me and Sunny a 1970’s double-wide just a couple of blocks from the main drag of our small town; then they sold me a lot adjacent to their home, just a few blocks away, on which to build a home of my own.

I took a big leap from San Francisco to the Alaskan bush. Gary and I made another leap to our 120-acre Blue Moon Stead, with dreams of farming with draft ponies together. My six years alone there, farming and taking on farming tenants, was an adventure of another sort. This last year was one of not-quite-settling-in to my new place. The adjustment to town has been easy enough — even Sunny took it in stride. But the long-delayed task of going through Gary’s possessions and the feeling of not yet being home has taken a toll. Designing (with a wonderful architect) and building a house just for me has been a good tonic for these feelings, and another big leap in its own right.

The process has not been without its harrowing moments — watching lumber prices skyrocket, among other things — but here we are, about to break ground. Wish me luck!