Life and times of a new farmer/homesteader
How I got my farm. {
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Wednesday, January 24, 2007
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I was recently asked (in a comment) how I got my farm and if I had
posted it before. I don't think I have, at least I couldn't find
it. I did post a description of my farm:http://www.homesteadblogger.com/hankinshollow/38833/My+property%2C+my+farm....html so if you're new to my blog feel free to read it. Or anything else for that matter. I've been here a month and am coming close to having posted 100, um, posts. Entries I guess. I'm not always this prolific. I can be in winter though. Not much else to do. Anyways, to the story at hand. I have long dreamed of a small farm, with a barn, and a tractor, and fields, and woodlots, and a big garden, etc. etc. For the last, oh, 20 years I have been reading books on modern homesteaders, hippy communes, simple lifestyles, the old ways, etc. I've always been a dreamer. For a long time, I was married to a woman who I loved (love) dearly, but we didn't share the same dreams. So for a little over 12 years I mostly just dreamed. When we split up in 2000, I was on my own again, and trying to redefine myself. I started dusting off some of those old books and notebooks, and acquiring more. Well, it took a while, and some hardships, and getting sober, before I started thinking about homesteading seriously. I knew about what I wanted. I wanted 10-20 acres (you can do alot with less, but they were my dreams, and I dream big,) I didn't care if there was a house on it, but that would be nice. I wanted access to water, relatively good land (that hadn't been mistreated,) some woods, some fields, a well (also not completely necessary, but nice,) and access to a road so I could get to it. Oh, and a south slope, or at least level ground. Most important were water, slope, and not being a superfund site. I was pretty vague. Oh yes, it had to be inexpensive. I began by driving backroads and country highways in SW Washington state and NW Oregon. I would stop by "For Sale" signs, look at the flyers, laugh at the price, and continue driving. I spent pretty much every weekend for a year doing that. It was disheartening in some ways, seeing just how much land you got for how much money, but I got to see some beautiful country. There were a couple places I saw that I could afford, but they already had sale pending signs. I had narrowed down where I wanted to be though, in the coast range, somewhere, anywhere. One day, at work (it was a slow day,) I got on the internet, and started looking at property. One of the sites I visited had a search engine, where you put in your requirements and it pops out what properties are available. I put in 10-20 acres, bare land, NW Oregon, SW Washington, under $175K. Interesting, there are places out there that are affordable. Three. Ok, two in Wahkiakum county in Washington, one in Columbia county, Oregon. Where is Birkenfeld? That one even has a house. 16 acres, house, barn, well, septic, indoor plumbing. Interesting they should mention that. Home added onto with a manufactured home shell. A picture of the field, and one of the inside of the house. No picture of the barn, the outside of the house, or anything else. A seasonal stream was mentioned. "Priced to sell, $125 K." So I called the realtor. Nice guy, grew up out here, knew the property I was talking about, really just a nice guy. He called back that afternoon, and told me that they had had an offer, but it fell through, so they were back on the market. The family that lived there was moving to Idaho, so they were a little concerned showing the house with all the boxes, but they would have it cleaned by Friday. I could come out and see it then. It was Monday. I couldn't sit still that week. Dreams could become a reality, couldn't they? Dad and I drive the 75 miles west out of Portland to Birkenfeld. Ok, I remember this area, I've been here before, I love this area. The Nehalem river's right there. This could be nice. We meet the realtor, and he tells us they have already accepted another offer, from a friend of theirs. He was pretty, er, upset. I have to say I was dissapointed too. He said we could still look at it, they would let us, and we could put in a backup offer if this one falls through. So we go and look at it. Wait, I saw this place before. I stopped by here a couple months back, when it had a sale pending sign at the road. This is sixteen acres? Oh, those fields are part of it too. I thought it was from the driveway to the fence over there. It's from the road. Ok. We drive up to the house. I can see why they didn't post a picture. It was first built in 1876, and while solid, it's much of a patchwork of fixes and add-ons. The man of the house walked out to meet us. Tall gentleman, wearing a hat, a long sleeved shirt, and trousers. He apologised for taking an earnest money without us seeing it first, but hi wife was in a hurry to get out of town. "She hates the rain." "I HATE THE RAIN" shouted a middle aged woman walking down the steps from the porch. Followed by six kids, mostly girls, wearing dresses, and bonnets. One wore an apron. "You've got quite a crowd here." said dad. "It was bigger, my two oldest are away at college and in the military." He replied. It would seem, I was to find out, that I had just met a mennonite family. They mostly looked at my father and I with some degree of distrust, as we both (at the time,) had very long hair and long beards. I think I was wearing sandals. In the rain. Well, the wife and children went for a walk as we looked over the house. They had fires going, and it smelled like baked apples with cinnamon and cloves. It needed a ton of work, but that's what I was looking for. From the porch you could hear the river. I really liked this place. We went back to the realtors office in Vernonia and asked what our options were. He told us that the last people that put in an offer couldn't get financing, and it might happen again. Wouldn't hurt to put in a backup offer, if we could work out something for financing. So we put in an earnest money agreement. My parents and I had talked about how to go about doing this, and since I have yet to get a "legal" divorce, we decided to put the place in their name if we got it. Dad signed the paperwork, and we went back to town, the long way. We also asked the realtor to keep an eye out for anything similar. We kept in touch every week or so, and in four weeks he started calling every day. The first on the list was having difficulty getting financing. Seems there is no record of the septic being installed at the county courthouse. Sounded great (kind of, in some ways,) and I might actually get a chance at this place. Of course, how was I going to get financing? Hadn't really thought about that. Then the offer was extended. Two more weeks. AAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!! It was a very long two weeks. The mennonite family had aleady moved to Idaho, and contacting them was difficult. The offer expired, and it took another week for them to accept ours. We were the only backup offer in place. Still, now I need money. I told mom (who I worked for,) that we got our offer accepted. She was thrilled. I do believe we danced. Maybe we just jumped up and down in glee. I started calling friends, and she went to run some errands while I watched the store. By the time she came back, I had pretty much settled down, except for the occasional giggle. The phone rang off the hook that day. Friends calling to congratulate, normal store stuff. Early in the afternoon, mom got a call. When she hung up the phone she turned to me and said "The loan went through." The loan? What loan? Seems while she was out running "errands," she stopped by the bank and asked for a second mortgage on her house. They looked at the amount she wanted, looked at the assesment on the house, and asked her "Is this all you want, we can give you more." The loan was approved in an hour. I had the keys in a week. So, now I owe a large sum of money to the bank of mom. Thank you God for family. I don't want you to think I get whatever I want from my parents, although I do. I don't want much, and I get love and support; who could want more. This was just too good an opportunity for something my parents know I have wanted most (if not all) of my life. They consider it my inheritance, although I do have to pay it back. Really, it's not just my inheritance, but my childrens, and their childrens, and so on, and so on. Two months later, I moved in. Why did it take so long? That's another story. Thanks for the opportunity to relive all this. It's been fun. Good question  Blessings, Raymond P.S.: They didn't mention in the original internet ad that the property is actually on the Nehalem river. 700 feet of frontage. If they had, there is no way I would have ever gotten this place. Things happen for a reason. I think this was meant to be. { Last Page } { Page 85 of 181 } { Next Page } |
