After a few hours up the hill chopping wood, my partner came back to the farmhouse looking a bit perplexed. He asks if I want the good news or bad news first- I always opt for the bad news to get it out of the way. "Farm sold" he says. The sale closes at the end of the month. The good news is they're giving us an extra couple months to figure out what we'll do about that.
It was the last thing we'd expected at this point in time. The shock of our home-base changing hands suddenly in November hadn't worn off yet.
Though it wasn't expected, the news didn't come as a surprise. Back in summer 2019 when we moved the farm base up there, we knew the owner was thinking of selling. In fact, the property was currently on the market but no one was biting. His wife had passed a few years back, and he felt the acreage was a lot to manage without her. He's right, it didn't take long in her absence for everything to become overgrown.
We stayed anyways. We had a somewhat functioning farm on the five acres that needed a place to go. We spent the remainder of 2019 hauling up all of our accumulated building materials, our fifth wheel trailer, tools, and all the posts and fencing we had. If nothing else, it would be a great spot to park all our stuff when the 5 acres changed hands. We visited often with loads throughout the season, and spent time attempting to keep the invasive bramble at bay.
It didn't feel any kind of permanent- until 2020 came along with a pandemic. The landowner was traveling as the borders were being shut down. Up until that moment, he was still hoping to sell. When he finally got back into Canada and up to the farm, his tune had changed completely. We sat down and hashed out a rough ten year plan.
He felt extremely grateful to have this beautiful remote mountainside property to isolate in while the world shut down around us. In the wake of food shortages and society losing its shit, he had this. And us. He took the property off the market, invested tens of thousands into an excavator and equipment, and we got to work.
We spent an entire year cleaning up and planning. Over a kilometer of waterline was repaired and connected to bring spring water from the top of the mountain down to the field. We first built a barn completely out of reclaimed materials- just big enough for the goats to hang out with us on long days up the hill, and of course to store things in the loft and keep our tools dry. When it was finished, we could take our goats up to camp.
Almost an acre of blackberry bramble was peeled back off the field. The ground was leveled, and an area was made for our RV to park somewhat permanently. We started collecting materials for the shelter we planned to build around it. We even have a woodstove waiting.
The property owner had put hundreds of hours into operating the excavator. Repairs to the long driveway, the trail system, and the removal of some large dangerous trees. He learned to fix the machines. We spent an entire weekend together getting the dump truck up and rolling to make quicker progress on the land. It kept all of us busy in the strangest year of our lifetime.
On top of the pandemic, we each had our own hurdles to overcome. Not being able to travel is problematic for the landowner. And me suffering my own health crisis on top of everything really slowed me down. My partner has previous injuries that are coming back to haunt him. None of us came to admit it, this was all very daunting.
Though shock was definitely in the jumble of feelings in that moment, I was honestly relieved to hear the news.
Don't get me wrong. It's a beautiful property, and I have always felt a deep sense of honour and gratitude for the opportunity to spend our time there. I was always stoked for everything we talked about doing. But also very aware that at any point, it could all be over.
I feel like our presence there gave us each the opportunity to let go of something. Instead of dropping what we were holding on to in haste, we were instead able to put it down gently. I'm glad we were able to do that together. I'm thankful for the opportunity to reflect, and let go of ideals that don't serve me. I'm grateful for this time to learn some things about myself- to be honest with myself. To breathe.
Permanence in transience.
To be continued...
