Rural Dreams

The Night Before Thanksgiving

We are going to Steve's mom's house for Thanksgiving. Our oven is not working so we are bringing all things either raw or made on the stovetop. Steve made Moosewood Cookbook's Hungarian Mushroom soup. He loves it and makes it regularly for family gatherings. I just made a Raw grated beet-apple-ginger salad, a green salad with home made vinagrette, a wild rice salad with pecans and dried cranberries and cranberry-orange sauce. I get really nuts when I start cooking and tend to keep wanting to make or bring more and more things, I love good food. I was really pretty good and restricted myself to the fairly simple things that I had committed to bringing, but at the last minute I began to feel regretful about not having any vegetarian stuffing, so I preped everything for a batch and I'll make it there. It should only thae 15 min to throw it together. I made the wild rice in the pressure cooker and ended up with a lot of extra wild rice infused cooking water. It is gorgeous, Steve put some in his soup and the rest will go in my stuffing. We spent the whole day babysitting our friends' kids, Bella and Althea, and Aidan was so tired, he slept in the mini shopping cart at the natural foods store that I stopped at on the way home. He's been sleeping wonderfully all night, allowing me to fulfill my culinary fantasies!

We have this great book called, 'Twas The Night Before Thanksgiving. It was a hand me down - my sister-in-law had bought it for her son at a school bookfair. She didn't know what it was about when she bought it. I am such a dork, I actually cry every thime I get to the end. Here is the text:

'Twas the day before Thanksgiving
And all through the trees,
The fall leaves were spinning aloft in the breeze.

Eight children had boarded
Their schoolbus with grins
In hopes that a field trip
Soon would begin.

They sang as they rode
Through autumn terrains,
While visions of drumsticks
danced in their brains.

O'er rivers, through woods,
With winding and weaves,
Their school bus sailed on
Through the new fallen leaves.

When out on the road
There arose such a clatter,
They threw down their windows
To see what was the matter.

And what with their wondering eyes
Should they see,
But a miniature farm
And eight tiny turkey.

And a little old man
So lively and rugged,
They knew in a moment
It was Farmer Mack Nuggett.

He was dressed all in denim
From his head to his toe,
With a pinch of polyester
And a dash of Velcro.

And then in a twinkling
They heard in the straw
The prancing and pawing
Of each little claw.

More rapid than chicken
His cockerels they came.
He whistled and shouted
And called them by name:

"Now Ollie, now Stanley, now Larry and Moe,
On Wally, on Beaver, on Shemp and Groucho!"

The turkeys were chunky
With smiley, beaked faces,
And they greeted the children
With downy embraces.

So out through the barnyard
They ran and they flew,
And they gobbled and giggled,
As friends sometimes do.

Then somebody spotted
An ax by the door,
And she asked Farmer Nuggett
What it was for.

With a blink of his eye
And a twist of his head,
The old farmer told
A grim tale of dread:

"Tonight," said Mack Nuggett,
"These feathery beasts
Will be chopped up and roasted
For Thanksgiving feasts."

The children stood still
As tears filled their eyes,
Then they clamored aloud
Ina chorus of cries.

"Oh dear," cried Mack Nuggett,
"Now what shall I do?"
So he dashed to th well,
And the teacher went too.

And they fetched some water
Fresh from the ground,
In hopes that a swig
Might calm everyone down.

And when they returned
To quiet the matter,
The children were calmer
(And mysteriously fatter!)

The boys and girls drank up
Their drinks in the hay,
Then thanked old Mack Nuggett
And waddled away.

OK, you sort of have to see the book for this part - the children have all shoved the turkeys in their shirts.

They limped to the school bus
All huffing and puffing -
It's not easy to walk
With hot turkey stuffing.

And then as the school bus
Drove off in the night,
Mack Nuggett looked round--
Not a turkey in sight!

Twas the night before Thanksgiving,
And the stars up above
Shone down on a school bus
Abounding with love

The very next evening
Eight families were blessed
With eight fluffy Thanksgiving turkeys
As guests.

They feasted on veggies
With jelly and toast,
And everyone was thankful
(The turkeys were most!)

So each one gave thanks
For loving and for living,
And they all had a wonderful
Happy Thanksgiving.

The Fast Runner

I got a rare treat today - a day out at the movies while Steve watched Aidan. I saw The Fast Runner with Will. It is an Inuit story told by an Inuit owned production company with a cast of experienced and inexperienced Inuit players. It was remarkable as a document of a traditional lifestyle and the story was fantastic too.

I was reviewing the website before I went to see it and I noticed on their bulletin board someone commenting about the treatment of the sled dogs in the film. The funny thing is that there is a scene in the film where a guy is running naked and barefoot through the ice and snow for like fifteen minutes of screen time - which probably translates to hours of actual filming time. I had trouble feeling bad for the dogs after that.

Anyway, it is a gorgeous film and if you have the opportunity to see it, I recommend it. It's showing in Ithaca Dec 10th (for Rich).

Teaching About Thanksgiving

I started taking Aidan to a play group the week before last and on my first day there, the woman leading it (who is a Waldorf kindergarten teacher) offered up a basket of brown felt strips and beads so we could make Indian headbands for the kids for Thanksgiving. I failed to communicate my dismay at that moment: it was my first day there, I am rather shy and non-confrontational, but mostly, I lacked a clear understanding of what the holiday is all about and I lacked a vocabulary for talking about it. The word "objectify " came to me days later.

Anyhow, in the process of stewing over this, I came across this website.
Teaching About Thanksgiving

Mortgage Tales part 27: Rejected

On Tuesday I got the call from my mortgage broker where she was supposed to give me a closing date. Instead she told me that the bank rejected the mortgage. She cited a list of things noted wrong in the appraisal report that included peeling wallpaper. I couldn't even talk to her about it at that point. She wasn't making any sense. We told her from the beginning that this house was a fixer- upper. I haven't even noticed the peeling wallpaper, but if I had, my reaction would be one of gladness since it it is hideous and would be easier to remove. I asked her to fax the letter from the bank to my attorney and I haven't spoken to her since.

You would think all hope would be lost at this point but a miracle occured: the sellers extended the mortgage contingency date another month. I am working now with a local mortgage company that both my attorney and realtor recommended. There is still a lot of doubt about whether or not this will happen, but I feel like a million bucks now that I don't have to deal with the old broker. Her daily demonstrations of incompetence were making me crazy - and that's not really an exaggeration. I was shaking all the time and depressed.

So instead of reading every stupid detail of the appraisal to me, super broker gets right to the point. The house was given a "good - fair" rating. "Fair" being one step above "poor". Banks don't want "fair", they want nothing short of "good". So even before explaining this to me, super broker calls the appraiser and asks her what would have to be done to get a "good" rating. Appraiser says its the roof. This is a line of logic I can follow. Peeling wallpaper ... give me a break.

Now I want to know if this would be an issue for any homebuyer, or is it just an issue for us because of our credit rating. Super broker says it would be an issue for anyone, but a bank might be more flexible for someone with better credit. They look at four things: credit, equity, condition of the house, and income. In this scenario we only have one thing going for us.

So the next step is to see if we would qualify for a mortgage if the roof were fixed. Super broker says she should know sometime tomorrow. It's too late in the year to replace the roof now though, so if the answer is yes we would have to 1) wait to buy the house until the roof can be replaced in the spring OR 2)owner financing for six months during which time we can fix up the roof and more and get a bank mortgage.

There is also the possibility that Steve could just patch the roof in the next week while we alternante between snow and 50 degree weather. We'd have to find out if patching the roof would raise the house's rating though. It might not.

Here's our snowman today. The right side of him is the south side. It looks like the sun took bites out of him.

Snowman

We woke up yesterday to light snow and a lot of ice and this morning we were treated to even more snow. It's very wet and perfect for making a snowman.

The beauty of the snow makes the grey, dark weather almost worthwhile. Winters without snow are so sad. Aidan tries to make snowballs but isn't very successful with his mittens, so I make them for him and he throws them. The first one I made he threw right at my head, not realizing that they were icy and hard. I told him to throw them for the dog to chase and then everyone was happy.

Wes gets positively nutty in the snow. When I was 2 months pregnant with Aidan we had a terrific snow and Wes short circuited from joy and ran off. I chased him for about a mile - running in high snow. There were lots of people out because school had been cancelled and people were outside shovelling and playing. Not a single person offered to help me. That's Long Island.

I went to the house yesterday because I had an pest treatment scheduled and I had to pay for it. The owners were very nice and invited me in and were asking me questions about the mortgage situation and offering up little bits of information about living in the house, the neighbors, etc. I explained everything I've gone through in the past week. They didn't say it outright, but I am fairly certain that they will stick this out. If I could just give them a closing date, I think they'd be allright. I was feeling a little more positively about the house too. I've been a little gloomy about it. A big part of that is because we were going to get $10,000 extra from the mortgage for improvements, but even the second appraisal didn't come in high enough for that, and I only found that out on Friday. But I have started thinking about all of the little luxuries that this place will afford us even without renovations: a shower, a dishwasher, a clothes dryer, closets, storage space, wood floors.

The two margaritas, one white Russian and fabulous lasagna dinner that we had with our friends Jes and Lee last night has also helped to improve my mood considerably.

I Need A Drink

Even though it has taken us a year and a half to find this house with a variety of real estate fiascos along the way, I'd been feeling like this house purchase was going wonderfully smoothly - a sign that we are doing the right thing. I mean, I've heard the stories about the hell people go through buying a house and I'm sure that you have too, if you haven't actually lived it.

Well, the shit hit the fan this week. I am exhausted. I am anxious. I am hunched over with a furrowed brow all day long. I am planning my next move, strategizing, trying to anticipate what else can go wrong in a game I've never played before. I don't know what the rules are until I've found out I've fucked them up.

This is all tedious and boring and has a lot of cursing. I wouldn't blame you for not reading it and just posting a sympathetic comment.

First there was this thing with the appraisal. Well, we got another appraisal that came in right where we needed it. I was calling the mortgage broker on Friday to find out if they had recieved it. They didn't have it in the office yet, but assured me that the value came in where it needed to. We were on Long Island that day and called our broker. She informed us that the sellers had given us an ultimatum: if we didn't close by the 21st, they were packing it up and going to Florida and they would put the house back on the market in the spring. Fuck. More stress. And Monday was a holiday, so we had a three day weekend to carry that around.

On Tuesday I spoke to my attorney, who is the shining light of this transaction. He has a list of things I need to complete the mortgage application: a letter saying that Steve doesn't have a business certificate because he just does business under his own name, a letter explaining why our credit is not so great, a pest inspection and proof of treatment, cancelled rent checks for 12 months. I am pissed off that I have to do this stuff now. Why wasn't this cleared up weeks ago? Why is my attorney having to relate this to me? I had spoken to the mortgage broker half an hour before and she told me everything was fine. I've been making a point to call her every single day. I blow up a little about the pest treatment. Am I going to sink more money into this house if they are threatening to up and leave in a week? My attorney doesn't know what I am talking about. I thought my broker had informed him of the threat but she hadn't. So after I explained, he looks up the date we are required to have a mortgage commitment. It is the 15th, Friday. We are obligated to have the mortgage commitment by Friday and unless we don't have that, they are obligated to complete the transaction. So now the race is to get the mortgage by Friday.

The last I had heard about the pest treatment (very little evidence of powder post beetles was found) was that we were putting it in the contract even though the sellers had left us some convoluded message about refusing to treat for the termites in the barn - there are no termites in the barn. I thought that they had signed it. I found out yesterday that they crossed it out. My atty says that he remembers discussing this with me but I do not think that he did. I like him too much to fault him for it. I am scrambling to get the treatment done.

The rent checks are a problem. We have about 8 scattered month's worth - partially because we are disorganized and partially because we sometims paid with cash or a money order. We had discussed this with the mortgage broker in the beginning. She whispered into the phone yesterday to buy a book of rent reciepts and write ourselves some. We did and it made both of us nervous. I have no guarantee that it will be acceptable.

Today I drove an hour to my mortgage broker's office to drop off all of the silly things. She needed another silly thing: a handwritten letter from Steve explaining where his income comes from. I wrote it and signed his name. If I worked we would be screwed in this.

After I got home I got a call from my atty's office. I have to get a binder for homeowner's insurance. I say, "but he (the atty) told me that that gets done after we have a closing date." She says, "this mortgage company wants it before they grant the mortgage." GAH! I call USAA and they tell me that a sales person will call me back within 24 hours. What else can I do?

So are you ready for the kicker? I get a call from the mortgage broker at 4:00. The appraisal hasn't come in because they haven't been paid. Well, I don't have a bill! I call the appraisal company. Apparently the bank told them they were sending a check. When the appraisal company didn't get it, they called back and the bank told them that I had to send the check since I ordered the appraisal. So at 4:30 I am running to to post office to overnight a check to the appraisal company - another thing that should have been cleared up days ago.

There is a liquor store next to the post office, but I am such a nerd that I don't know WHAT to drink.

Mamatron Quilt Blocks

Someone had the idea on a quilt thread on Mamatron for us to pool a bunch of blocks and make a quilt for a raffle fundraiser for the website. I've never done this before, but it was such a good exercise, because I could try out different techniques without committing to a whole quilt. With these three I did paper piecing, the heart and the pineapple were started in a paper piecing class I took last winter:

 

This one has mitered borders on the colored part - it was really hard, but the pattern matched up in such a fantastic way that I felt like it had to be done. It had been sewn and resewn a hundred times and the seam allowances are all funky on it. Also, I didn't really want to put the outer black border on it, but when it was all done it came out a little too small. The colors much more beautiful than this picture shows:

And a lone star block! I've been wanting to try this, a million little pieces, partially quick pieced. A mathmatical challenge - I drafted it and made my own template. It is highly imperfect, but I am very happy with it nonetheless:

News

I will tell you what an open call audition for Blue Man Group is like: groups of 5 people put on a mask and line up, they look at the group for about 30 seconds and shoot a picture with a digital camera. They say, "We may or may not call you to come back tomorrow and drum." And that's THAT.

The second appraiser looked at the house yesterday and called me today to tell me that she can definitely appraise it as a one family house. This is very good news, it will almost certainly appraise where we need it to.

As for that splinter story, wouldn't it be nice if it really had that happy ending? I honestly thought that it did when I wrote it, but it seems that my fingertip's innate intelligence doesn't know that the splinter is gone and so the infection in my fingertip is persisting. I have taken my Aunt Alexa's advice and wrapped it up in a moist gauze pad and today I have started moistening it with a saline-garlic water concoction. It is providing some relief, although it may be largely psychological because I can't look at it and poke at it when it is all wrapped up. I keep cracking up when I am driving because I look like Margaret Cho from I'm The One That I Want.

Splinter

A few days ago I raked my finger against one of the beams in this old barn grabbing something that was leaning up against it. I immediately pulled a big splinter out of my fingertip. It continued to ache and an hour later I realized that I had the tiniest splinter completely under my fingernail. The pain was minor so I just let it be. I did yoga that night with no problem.

The next day I started to think about what would have to be done about it. I tried to pull it out with tweezers, but the little bit that was accessible broke off and I didn't have the right kind of tweezers to really get under there. I cut my nail down to the quick, but it was buried completely in the pink. It still didn't hurt much so I left it alone. I believed in the body's ability to take care of itself and I thought it would work its way out.

That night, as I lay in bed, it hurt. But the next day, it seemed better.

I started to worry. When I was in high school, I slammed my thumb in a car door and blood built up under my fingernail. I lived with it for almost 24 hours until I got to a doctor and with a quick poke of a cauterizer, a hole in my thumbnail let the blood out. It was one of the most painful things I have ever experienced. Fingertips are absolutely filled with nerve endings.

Yesterday, I noticed it was starting to swell and hurt more. This morning, I knew something would have to be done. I took Aidan to a birthday party and couldn't stop thinking about the sensation in my finger. I came home and played host for an hour to my brother-in-law and his parents from the Netherlands, who wanted to see the barn. I mentioned it over coffee. They all agreed it would have to come out, that it would hurt, and that it wasn't going to happen on its own. They started speaking in Dutch about how bad it was. By now I could see that there was pus building up not only under my nail but all around it in my fingertip. I tuned down my brother in law's offer to get it out for me. I knew I didn't have the right kind of tweezers and he was talking about using a needle sterilized in a flame. He is a ruthless do-it-yourselfer.

As soon as they left I knew I needed to get it out tonight. I told Aidan that mama's finger hurt and we needed to go to the store to get tweezers. "Ohhh, mama hurt?", he said, sympathetically. He was then cooperative on a miraculous level. On the 15-minute drive to Eckerd's I was working out wild worst-case scenarios in my head and trying to figure out what friend's house I could go over to tonight in case I decided I couldn't perform the operation myself. Eckerd's had closed 15 minutes before I got there. It took me a few panicked minutes to think of Wal-Mart as an option. As we parked in the giant Wal-Mart parking lot I told Aidan that we weren't getting any toys. He got pouty for a minute and then agreed (this has been a tremendous problem for us lately) and didn't whisper a word about wanting anything the whole time we were in there. I bought sharp tweezers, sharp fingernail cutting scissors, gauze, surgical tape, alcohol and hydrogen peroxide. I couldn't stand the thought of getting home and not having something I needed. On the way home, Aidan fell asleep and I thought scared thoughts and kicked myself for not getting the splinter out before my finger became puffy and painful. How could I think that my body could get a splinter out from under my fingernail all by itself?

When I got home, I laid my sleeping boy on the sofa and spread out my new surgical supplies on the kitchen table. I thought I would get everything opened and ready in case I started bleeding profusely. The new tweezers were just too enticing though and without even dipping them in alcohol, I reached under my nail with them. A small bit of pus surprised me and I could see the splinter move freely under my nail. It wasn't even in my skin and the pus had caused my nail to separate from the skin. I had the splinter out in a second, completely painlessly. My body had taken care of it, in it's own way and although it needed a little help, it was miles away from the scenario that my fears had created.

I'm feeling right now like the splinter is a metaphor for all the hell that broke loose for us on Thursday. Our fears make things so much worse than they need to be and things really do work themselves out if you just put forth a little bit of effort.

Now you know that Aidan is fast asleep when I can write such a long post about a silly splinter.

Something to love about Texas (besides my Mom)

How is it that I have never heard of the fantastic Molly Ivins?

And she's from Texas!

A Bit More of an Explanation

Things are seeming a little better today if only because I finally spoke to my real estate broker and my attorney and they both think that the appraiser is a crackpot. It doesn't promise us anything, but I have some hope. Also, I spoke to the sellers realtor today and she tells me that the tax assessment on the house is just a few thousand below our agreed price. I have a new appraisal scheduled for Monday which is a miracle that my realtor concocted as there is a real backlog with folks refinancing all over the place. It does seem that even if everything goes perfectly from now on, we still won't be able to close on the thirteenth like we had planned. Hopefully we'll only be delayed a week. December 1st I am supposed to have a tennant move in (a friend of mine) and my step-mom is coming to visit.

This is largely my mortgage broker's fault. She waited much too long to schedule the appraisal and the guy she called isn't from this area. My attorney (who I absolutely love) has been leery of her from the start. He would tell me to call her and see how things were going and when I would, she would just say that everything was fine and going according to schedule. I don't know what kind of schedule she had in mind - a late one I guess.

The mystery piece of information here is that it is a two family house that is not currently being used as a two family house and isn't really being marketed as a two family house. But the zoning is two family. And the only houses that the appraiser found in the immediate area that were two family were cheap. It doesn't matter what kind of condition they were in or the square footage or if they had lime green asbestos shingles. He told me he can only use as comprables these other two family houses. Plus, he was going to take off money from the appraisal because of the condition of the roof, exterior paint, and a lot of other less significant things.

Enough of that, here's a cool thing: Steve is going to to Boston on Monday to audition to be a Blue Man.