I've gone from living in the 11th most populous city of Honolulu to a 5th wheel in a small coal-mining town in Colorado. Sea level to the Rocky Mountains. We have cut, baled and sold our first crop of alfalfa on the 6 1/2 acres. We can bale 4 times a year as a cash crop.

If somebody would like to offer us a reality show, feel free to P.M. me.

Our log home, all 1600 sq. feet of it, is still not done. We were supposed to be living in it no later than June 12th but now there are at most 2 workers a day and the progress appears to be going backwards. My husband sweeps up after them daily and I wander around picking up trash, suffering from the illusion that we actually have some control over the situation, which of course we do not. When that house is ready to be finished, it will be done.

Until then, I live like a hillbilly or gypsy in a 5th wheel with my husband and 2 dogs.  We have no T.V. We've been living on hotdogs for 2 weeks. Today I'm getting creative and will buy us spaghetti to eat for the week ahead. We get very little radio and have no internet access. Luckily the local library which is only one year old !!! has wireless. So today I sit in my 2003 Red Jeep Laredo, with the dog-everybody-hates and blog. 

My husband is back at our River View Plantation with a local guy in his 50's who has only been out of this town 8 weeks in his entire life. They are putting the water to the alfalfa, using ditch water of which we have several shares. We also have well water and live on the river so when the Apocalypse comes, feel free to come to our house. 

Our well water gave a bad sample. We should not be drinking it. We do heat it up for coffee and the dogs drink it. We are supposed to dump a gallon of chlorox into the well, let it sit overnight and then run the water until you don't smell it anymore. That will get rid of the bacteria that has formed because the well wasn't used between the time we put it in several years ago and now. We are to do this once a year as maintenance. 

To get to our property, you must cross over 2 sets of railroad tracks. At least 3 times a day the Coal Train chugs by. There are no gates since ours is a private crossing, so on top of avoiding bears and coyotes, we have to be cognizant not to be hit by a train. So much to remember! My husband says he will be very embarrassed if he dies by the train. 

I am suffering a mild case of depression brought on by care-giving, not living in an actual house, being suddenly bereft of 21st century technologies like television and having a dog everybody hates. But this too shall pass [someday, or then again, perhaps it won't]. We did manage to figure out how to get hot water with the help of our construction manager so having a hot shower every day, granted in a tiny shower made for dolls, has been its own blessing.

I'm giving myself one year here to acclimate to the changes, to cowgirl up and embrace my new life. I can't expect it all to happen at once. We humans are not wired to drop into a whole new life and bake brownies and smile a lot [unless you are a Stepford wife, in which case, do NOT P.M. me]

Thursday night we went to the local tavern, met the owner [who is also the local yoga instructor] and watched the final NBA game over beer, wine, pizza. We watched the cross-section of our little town wander in: stressed out waitresses, dreadlocked hippies, long haired baby boomer hippies, dreadlocked girl with new baby bottle-feeding, and other various and sundry characters. I am developing a plan on meeting new friends. I will share it with you soon.

In the meantime, I am off to the one grocery store to buy food for the week that IS NOT A HOTDOG. I will pass the local liquor store, diner, lumber store, bank and post office and some cafe's. My husband says there is a medical marijuana store on main street but I haven't seen it yet.

My goal this week: to build a small cinder-block garden to grow tomatoes, radishes, lettuce and carrots behind the house. This will give me a project to focus on while our house seems to move backwards, although the two workers are supposed to start painting our dry-walls tomorrow. I'll let you know how that turns out.

Remember: Peace out.