But what am I going to write about while we’re road-tripping? Two cows did get out, I did get a call for help from Dennis-Excavator Guy. I wish I had been there! How did these boys escape? All I could do was call Mark, who directed me to a sub who chases cows and sheep in Mark’s absence. Who said he’d be there in 45 minutes. And that’s all I know. Not much of a story.

On Sunday, Larry dashed home from the BBI, laden with oranges and apples and laundry. At least, no additional pickles this time! Several hours later, we were on the road to Corvallis where we would spend the night.

And on Monday, we met with Tyrone at the farm to sign our contract with him. Wow! Dennis had done a beautiful job and there was our little farmhouse outlined in gravel. The contract asserts that the construction will be done in 310 days. An oddly precise number, but that puts it into the first week in April, if all goes well.

A philosophical note I saw last week while waiting to get my thumb X-rayed: “In the Now is all time. In understanding the Now we are freed from time.” I take this to mean that all past and future are contained in the Now, and therefore will try to be patient. Yes, that was a simple take-away, but I find the thought powerful. (Arthritis, and thank you for asking, which does not mean that tendonitis may be eliminated as the cause of my troublesome thumb)

The lighter gray in the photo is the house footprint, the dark will be the entry, um, courtyard? But that sounds way too formal. Maybe not. After some discussion, we have prevailed and this space will not be pavers, not poured cement, but just gravel. “You’re going to want to pave that,” Dennis tells us. “Dust.”

Maybe he’s right. But think about those lovely chateaux you’ve seen in Burgandy with their graveled drives. Now dial the scene down about 98% and you may get what we’re trying to accomplish.(I would have said 172% for the effect, but my mom is watching from somewhere and she has taught me that there can be no percentage larger than 100. Got it, Mom.)

Suddenly the amputated oak tree looked sheltering, the stump a place to sit, after the chain-saw artist finishes with it.

You can’t see the stump in this photo, but I included it anyway because the light is so pretty. The area around the tree had been mowed. Paul again, who came to till the orchard and decided to do some mowing, as he was there anyway. Which he didn’t charge us for.

I didn’t take a photo of the newly tilled orchard, but did strap on my farm shoes and wade out to inspect the little cherry tree suffering the lilac leaf blight. “Wade” is the correct word, as the soil is so fluffy that my footsteps were several inches deep. Hmm. But the tree! It had put on 10 inches of new growth from every pruned stem, and looks lush and alive. Okay, Vik, this recovery probably wasn’t courtesy of our organic, homeopathic, non-toxic spray, but 10 inches in 10 days? Way to go, little tree!

Ooops, I accidentally hit Publish, when I meant Preview, and I don’t think there’s any going back. But I’m in my hotel in Pasadena, soon to head to Peter’s home. Tomorrow we’re meeting with Rod’s daughter-in-law, who will give us some suggestions for furnishing the house next year. Will get back to you!