October 10, 2021 – Gabe and I drove out to the property yesterday to meet a guy who does repair work on old barns. He says the bank barn is probably 140 years old, and was probably built by original settlers. Does he mean the first white people in this part of Ohio? Did the people who built this barn push Native peoples off this land? Probably so. A haunting history. He explained to me how the old hay track, still visible in the roofline, was used by draft horses to load hay into and out of the barn. So incredibly cool. He was pretty impressed with the condition of the barn. I was, too, but it’s nice to have someone who knows more than me affirm that. 2 of the support posts and 3 of the floor joists need to be replaced. He says $7,000. In the meantime, he thinks its safe for sheep. Sheep won’t be able to push on the posts and cause further deterioration. He says do not, do not put horses or cattle in here until the posts are replaced, because they will rub them out of alignment.
Gabe and I admired the machinery sitting in the barn, wondering if we could make offers on any of it. There is a great looking probably around 75 HP tractor, 2 bushhogs, a gravel blade, a front end loader, and a snowplow. He’s also got a very small cultivator and even smaller corn planter. I don’t want those, but I could probably sell them. Oh, and 2 ATVs that look pretty fun.
I also learned more about the wells. The hydrant at the barn is actually tied to the spring in the woods. What I thought was a cistern is actually a springbox which pumps water uphill from the spring into the hydrant. That water did not have any e. coli but did test positive for general coliform bacteria. That means no good for human consumption, but is OK for livestock. So it looks like I’ve got good livestock water at the barn. I’d like to find out if a positive TC (total coliform) test has any effect on certifying my livestock as organic. Maybe that matters only for dairy animals, since milk is like 80% water.
On a different note; it’s interesting to reflect on the emotional roller coaster this land search as been. When I first went to see the property, I was so incredible nervous. I remember topping the rise in the road that revealed the first edge of the pasture, and thinking “I am about to see the place that could be my home for the rest of my life.” Ok, maybe a little dramatic. But true for me. Good lord willing and the creek don’t rise, inshallah, this will be the last time I ever move. This place determines my daily life for the next 50 years. It’s kind of a big deal.
Then, the joy I felt upon walking the property and seeing just how amazing it was. The excitement as my agent and I put together the offer. Then the terrible, horrible, interminable waiting. I felt like a lover down on one knee, asking their beloved to marry them, and waiting for a response. And waiting. And waiting. The hold those sellers had on my emotional life for those 24 hours was way bigger than it should have been.
Then the excitement and gratitude I felt when the offer was accepted. I honestly felt like those sellers had offered me the greatest gift. It reminds me of the day Megan was born: I remember thinking that my obgyn had given me the greatest gift – like she had somehow formed Megan out of clay and handed her over to me! What a funny thought. This property is no more a gift than Megan was. Except, of course, in that they both are a gift from God, the universe, or whoever.
Now my main emotion is working on convincing myself to not be excited. This 160-day contingency is driving me mad. I should never have signed it. Yesterday I was working on my Plan B: if this deal falls through, I can spend next summer showing ARHA which will be fun for me and give me some goals to work toward through the winter. And of course Plan A, appdx 1 is that I look for and find another property. If this one falls through, it just was not meant to be.
I’m reminded of what I heard once on a real estate radio show: Houses are like husbands. There is more than one for you.
The Tranquility Ranch 