*twiddling thumbs*

Sooooo... What's going on?

It's pretty hot here. Yesterday was milder, and Sarah and I got out at 6:00 AM to ride the Town Lake Boardwalk trail I'd ridden Sunday morning by myself. Because of the weather and the early hour, it was actually mildly chilly when we first left. It felt good. But it was DARK until we got to the Town Lake Dam, about half way through the 9.7 mile route.

In the space of 1 week, overlapping Wednesdays, I rode my bike about 35 miles and some change. Not too shabby for an 8-month pregnant lady, right?

What else?

Ehh. Nothing, actually.

Last weekend, I bought a bunch of bulk stuff to chop and marginally prepare and freeze so that making dinners will be easier later. That took a lot of time.

But other than that, I feel like we're kind of coasting.

Yesterday, I washed all of our sheets and blankets; I took everything out of the kitchen and bathroom and really swept and mopped; I swept the whole house thoroughly... in addition to a midwife visit and bike riding. The day before that, I deep cleaned the bathroom, hand-washed all of the dishes (our dishwasher sucks right now), did several loads of laundry, and prepared lunch and breakfast for yesterday so I could ride bikes and still have everything done. I also broke into the quilling supplies that Patsy sent Daphne and made a name plate thing for her door (which the cats managed to partially destroy, of course). Monday, I cut and froze a bunch of vegetables and some meat and that took several hours; I also took all of the stuff off of the shelves in the bathroom so I could clean them and wipe down the shelving unit. Then I made our dinner as usual. Sunday, I'd made our other two meals for the day because I knew I wanted to get bulk stuff ready on Monday. For some reason, the waffle recipe for Monday morning made a TON of almond butter waffles, so we have about three dozen waffles in the freezer.

So I suppose I'm not coating coasting. I'm staying busy enough. But I do feel a lot like I'm killing time. I don't want to overfill my schedule, committing to things I'll have to drop. I don't want to start any big projects or take on any responsibilities I can't fulfill.

Today, I was trying to get in a quick nap before a couple of ladies came over, but I have a problem napping during the day because I start to snore, which wakes me up. If I snore at night, apparently I'm dead zonked enough that it doesn't rouse me. I asked James if I snore, and he said, unbelievably, "Nope! Not at all." When I called him on it, he amended his answer to say that it was adorable, which is an outright lie. But he's a nice guy.

As I was resting, though, I got a nervous feeling in my stomach as I considered the fact that I haven't really thought about bringing this baby home. Maybe it's because I learned my lesson with Daphne: You can't imagine it, anyway. It will never look how you expect it to look. But I haven't considered what this kid will be like, or how the sleeping stuff will work, or feeding, or any of it. I had read so many books before I had Daphne that I had fooled myself into thinking that I knew what I was doing. Of course, that was a load of hoo-ha, and perhaps it's better that this time, I'm prepared to fly by the seat of my proverbial pants.

I suppose I should enjoy this calm before the storm, instead of feeling mildly guilty for not "doing more." It's good to put some energy and sleep deposits into my storage because I know that soon, I'll be making some massive withdrawals.

But that's why there's really not much to report. We're just sort of in a holding pattern until stuff starts happening. You guys will be the first to know. Or second. Or like 12th, at the very least.

House (Not) Hunting

Our lease just renewed last month. We have at least one more year at the Nuthaus, and because we're such good tenants, the landlords raised our rent "only" 5% rather than the standard 10%. Well, gosh, thanks, gracious masters. The fact is that they raised the rent at the house on the other end of the lot 20% when the previous tenants moved out, and I know ours is going to increase next year, too. According to this report, the average PER-BEDROOM rent in our ZIP code is $1161. We are NOT paying that much for our three-bedroom, and that rate includes both some student housing (which seems to be about on target with this, if a kid wants to rent a one-bedroom apartment; if they go with a three-bedroom, they can usually get that for about $900 per month for their one bedroom) and the condos downtown, which are all high-end. Here's a snapshot of the ZIP on Zillow. It actually makes that rate look on the lower end.

So, although we're not "house-hunting" and in no position to move now (between the baby and the legal commitment to the house and the fact that it's so hot, I get exhausted watching our across-the-street apartment neighbors moving in and out), I do keep an eye out on Zillow and Redfin to track real estate trends. There have been a couple of interesting homes that have come up, including a neat elevated house in Lago Vista, north of "Lake" Travis, which has been reduced in price over $50,000 since I started looking at it a couple of months ago. But as much as we love the house, until James can work from home, it's not a great option; ten hours of his time per week is too much to pay, even if the mortgage is reasonable.

This weekend, though, we went and saw a house that James said he "liked... more than I expected to." Here is the Google Street View of the house, which is on a busy road but totally fenced in.

We got to the house a little early; it's only 3 miles from where we live right now. So we drove around the neighborhood and found it to be charming. The houses were built in the late 1940s, so it's very established. Most of the streets are tree-covered, perfect for biking and walking.

There has been an annual 4th of July parade and block party in this neighborhood, which is Austin's oldest HOA, for more than 55 years. In addition to that, it's directly adjacent to a new development that is very popular (more expensive) and growing rapidly.

In fact, this homeowner sold 600 square feet at the back of her lot to the developers so that they could build a pathway to connect this older neighborhood to their hike/bike trail.

Between this house, which is at the terminus of the neighborhood, and the new development is the awesome park where we had Daphne's 11th birthday party.

Behind that is a kids' museum, and in front of it is a food trailer court. The house itself is one mile from a newly-refurbished swimming pool that has slides and a beach entry. Also, the house is only a couple of blocks from the democratic school I've been obsessively investigating for the past few weeks. As much as I'd love Daphne to go there, she's not interested right now... but it might be a good fit for Rooby. The house is no further from James' work than where we live now.

The house is 67 years old, cinder block and stucco construction. It was originally a 2 bedroom, 1 bath home and there has been an add-on, so it's 3 bedrooms now. There is also a mud room that they recently expanded. It is where the washer and dryer are, and it's not air conditioned, which might be a little sticky but will save money. They just put in 14 inches of insulation in the attic.

Apparently, there was a detached 2-car garage and carport in the back of the quarter-acre lot when the current owners moved in, but it was falling apart, so the man tore it down and built an outdoor storage shed, painted to match the house. It looks like it has solar-powered lighting. The current owners also put in a patio, enlarged it, and poured a driveway most of the way to the back of the property. They've recently put in a $50,000 wrought-iron and wood fence, and James noticed that the gate in back has grape vines trailing over it.

Also, there is already a place to plant a garden. And they have a kinkajou, so there's a structure in place outside that is the perfect size/location for a chicken coop, if we decided to build one and get chickens. We don't have to clear out anything; the area's ready.

Our patio furniture would be perfect out back. We'd have to get a lawn mower, but it's really the front yard that requires attention; the back doesn't have a lot of sun-exposed grass. Here's the back of the house from about the middle of the back yard.

So, that's the good stuff. I mean, it's also close to a bunch of local restaurants and, unfortunately, chain shopping, too. And the owner said the house is "basically a bunker" because of the construction.

But here are the main things that give us pause. First of all, the owner's fiance seems to think the house will be ready to list in the next 30 days. If that's the case, we can't jump on it at this moment. The owner is retiring and she said she just wants to be out by next spring. If they do it that way, we'll be in a better position to make an offer.

And there's the biggest rub: This house is expensive. We could spend the same amount of money and get more than twice the house if we bought further out, but neither James nor I has any interest in living in the suburbs. We'd prefer farm land, but, again, the commute is an issue right now.

To go into debt for this much is frightening, and especially I dislike the idea of having the weight of that resting solely on James' shoulders, since I'm not working any more. It is at the upper end of our budget (and for us to buy the house we want, we pretty much need to spend that much), and limits his options as far as taking a gamble on a job he'd really love but that pays less than what he's making right now. Also, if we had any unexpected expenses, I'm not sure how we'd manage without going into more debt. At present, we are completely debt-free. At the same time, if we kept renting our house for 10 years, we'd have paid the asking price for this house (minus interest, of course). 

It seems pretty likely that the value of this property will increase as the development next door gets more popular and builds out. And interest rates are low enough right now that even with a VA loan and no money down, our monthly payments would be the same as what we're paying now for rent. The difference now is that if James wanted to take a different job with a lower salary, we'd just have to move when our lease elapses. No trying to sell a property.

So that's where we are right now. I'm hoping we have a few months to think about it, and to see how James likes the changes at his office, and whether this is going to be a good long-term fit for him. We really like the house. But it DOES only have one bathroom (having two bathrooms is definitely at the top of our "must haves," so that's a giant compromise). It's an old house, and those tend to have surprises fairly frequently. What a great neighborhood and location, though.

It's a conundrum, for sure...

Happy Austinversary!

(I have to give credit for coining "Happy Austinversary" to my husband, who wished me this as he left for work this morning.)

Today is the anniversary of my first full day in Austin, Texas. On August 13 of last year, Daphne and I woke up, make sure everything was packed in the car, including the cats, retracted the RV slides, and caravanned from Sherman to Austin with the guy I'd found on uShip.

Several people told me at the time that I was "brave" for heading out on my own, but I certainly didn't feel very brave.

Truth is, back in May, when I first set my mind to leave Sherman, I was very certainly running away.

I overheard the stalker telling someone that I was moving away because of him. That was untrue (although it has been nice not to have to worry about his showing up on my doorstep when something hits him the wrong way). I was running away from situations I couldn't right and that were continuing to cause pain for myself and for people who cared about me. I was running from the pain of seeing relationships I'd had dissolve around me, and things I never dreamed I'd lose fading away. I was running, mostly, because I knew that if I stayed in that place, I would keep banging my head against the same walls and nothing would ever change. I'd believed, early on in the process, that time would fix things. It turned out that time was actually amplifying many of the problems, and the only resort seemed to be to go.

However, something happened between May and August. I had to stay in Sherman because I'd committed to a summer play. And during that "lame duck" time, I happened to go up to Tulsa to visit James. Obviously, we ended up dating, and over those two months, I began to hope again. I began to see the move not only as escaping an unbearable set of circumstances (don't get me wrong: several of those were direct results of poor choices that I made), but as running toward... a new day, a fresh start, a life that would be free of the baggage that surrounded me in the small town where it had all happened.

By the time Daphne and I pulled into the Royal Palms RV Park, I didn't feel like we'd finally gotten far enough away... I felt like we'd finally come home. That very weekend, we started attending the church where we have begun to make a family. (Also that very weekend, I fell in the laundry room, which probably exacerbated my spinal injury, but life happens no matter where you are.)

Over the past year, I have made way too many trips to Dallas, handled the stress of a long-distance relationship very poorly (actually, handled the stress of a close-distance relationship equally badly), visited the Texas coast with my favorite people in the world, gotten married, moved into the city center, gotten reacquainted with baking, visited another country and met some incredible people, and have had so many amazing "new life" experiences that I am overwhelmed by the blessings of it.

It has become very clear that Austin is my town. There are so many opportunities here to meet people, have amazing experiences, not to mention that my sister and her family are here. I am grateful for my new start, and I am looking forward to seeing what the next year brings...

Haiti Trip 2013, An Introduction

This morning after I woke up, I lay in bed a long time, filled with nervous energy. I was, I believe, overwhelmed. Overwhelmed thinking of a day during which no one was going to shove food in front of me, tell me where to go and what to do, put me in a car, and make sure that I got there. Overwhelmed by once again being the "madame" of a house, where if we are going to have dinner or clean clothes or an absence of dust kitties, or lights because the electric bill got paid, it was up to me. Overwhelmed by my exposure to a new reality to which I feel responsible.

How do I juggle responsibility for myself, my family, and my newly-acquainted brothers and sisters and children, and do it all well?

Do you know much about Haiti? I didn't. I actually still don't. I probably should have done more research before we went. Briefly, Haiti - or Ayiti in local Creole - is the western (left) part of the Caribbean island of Hispanola, just southeast of Cuba (as you can see from my shower curtain). It was the first black-led republic in the world, and the first independent country in the Caribbean and Latin America. Whoo, Haiti!

Sadly, the US has a history of butting into Haitian affairs, about which you can read in this Wikipedia entry. None of that affected my trip, although I wonder if it lingers in the minds of older Haitians, and whether they see all of the "blancs" as trying to shoehorn "improvements" where they're not welcomed.

One thing I loved about this week's philosophy is that this was not a "we're coming to save you!" journey. It was specifically billed as a learning trip. I soaked up as much as I could about my surroundings, but that wasn't .05% (an official Jacob Vanhorn statistic) of Haiti, and I'm not even close to being an expert on the encapsulated experience.

To go on this trip, we each needed to raise $2200 in support. We raised a tiny fraction of that and paid the rest ourselves. Although it was initially somewhat discouraging, I'm now very grateful that I got to pour as many resources as I needed to into Haiti. I could not have spent our money better on any comforts or groceries or bills or anything else. For those of you who contributed financially, I again thank you with gratitude that words can't express. Because of you, a house is being built for a Haitian family by Haitian laborers and artisans. You helped provide a week's work for our incredible interpreters Dario, Jay, John, and Yvens and our intrepid driver, Gary (so glad he was the one transporting and not me!). And for those who prayed for our trip, thank you. Everyone stayed safe, we got to go everywhere and do everything that was planned, and it is my belief and hope that everyone involved was blessed.

We hung out with orphaned children who connected with us on so many levels that didn't require common language: photos, stored videos, animal sounds, crafts, piercings and tattoos, futbol, percussion, and hair styling. We did grunt work so that experienced builders could put together a house for a family headed by a woman who served as a foreman for our operations (again, without being able to communicate verbally, for the most part), who hauled rebar and gravel and who still managed to tend her farm and even enjoy a well-deserved shower in the rain at the end of one of our work days (although I suspect she went back to work after we cleared out and the rain let up). We visited with families and churches and communities, and we heard so many stories that I want to share with you... But I'm still unsure how best to honor those stories. They deserve to be told. They are incredible, and life-affirming, and faith-challenging. And I'm not confident yet that I know how to convey them, giving them the attention and respect that they deserve.

So, for now, I can only tell you my story. I hope you'll indulge me, and I hope you'll find that this journey means something to you. If you will, allow me to start with some notes I took on the airplane ride from the United States to Haiti. It's the beginning of my Haiti story:

6/8/13 - Saturday, en route
When Jacob announced this trip, I knew that I needed to come. For years, I have longed to go, to meet people from a different culture, and to experience life, not as a tourist, per se, but alongside of its people. I have entertained different theories as to why I haven't been able to go before, but now I realize that God has been saving this trip for when I needed it.

When I committed in my heart to go, I asked James and he was all for it, and for coming with me. We were not yet engaged. It feels like a lifetime ago.

At that time, my back pain still loomed so large in my life that it was my primary travel concern.

Since then, it has taken a turn for the worse (and hopefully worst). I have gotten married. We have transitioned into marriage and co-habitation. My back has either improved or I am becoming accustomed to the constant pulls and shooting pains. Last month, in a shocker of epic proportions, I had a positive pregnancy test. Weeks later, having settled as a family into this new development, I miscarried. Actually, because I have let this progress naturally, I am still in the middle of the process.

This trip has forced me to spend the last week quickly dealing with the loss while looking forward. Bags to be packed. Travel items to be bought. And I needed that. I think maybe we both did.

Because of the busy-ness of life leading up to this trip, I haven't had a lot of time to think about it. We are being reminded to be flexible, but I have no expectations. I am open for this week to be whatever God will make of it. As for now, I am sitting beside my husband, and that is enough.




Pictures are here, if you're interested.