Planning that gets stuck at the Planning Department

My last post was about the thrill of planning, this one is about the pain.

Bureaucracy is the bottle neck to all progress. I understand why we have to have it, but this understanding does not alleviate the annoyance. 

I wonder if this shed got planning?

There we were, Mr K and I, all excited and full of wild ideas and verbalising our imaginations when Big Brother, aka Government in all its forms, Local, State, Federal, stepped in to be the spoilsport parent. Apparently, you have to get permission to even think about building, let alone the doing part.

I do agree and get the whole planning permission thing. I know it's for my safety that the construction is safe and engineered, but to take 3 months just to approve a shed is beyond my comprehension. A prefabricated machinery shed, one that is put together by professional shed builders, on a concrete slab, on rural land, takes 3+ months to get permission to erect. I bet the old boys who built pole and corrugated iron sheds that still stand 150 years later would roll in their graves if they heard this.

But, we are no exception, so we must comply with the law. Plans have to be submitted to the Shire, the fee paid and the waiting done.

We want to build a good sized shed that will house all the toys machinery Mr K is accumulating, as well as a dry, lockable place to store building materials when the time comes to build the extension. 

Kind of the shed we want ... except it will have 3 roller doors, and will be off white

It will be constructed right next to my dressage arena, so it needs to look nice and match my lovely white (well once white, now ever so slightly bore stained yellow) fences. I have a red geranium that I saved a cutting from a horse property I admired a few years back that will be the icing on the cake for this area.

In an ideal world my dressage arena would have these as markers!

The dreaming hasn't stopped while we wait for the shed permission. Last weekend we were out there with my folks and Mr K's dad, overflow accommodation for the country people up in the city for my sons engagement. It was wonderful to share with the special people in our lives, our enthusiasm and dreams for this property. Even more wonderful that they share our belief that this is truly a magical place and they all love to stoke fires!

The stump burning fire ... the fire you have when you haven't got permission from the shire to have a fire.  We had this stump in the middle of the driveway that had to go, officer.

Good Things come to those who wait ... and wait ... and wait ...

The title of this blog is Journey to Contentment. It started in April 2010, the same year that we bought our dream property. It was New Years Day 2010 that Mr K and I first saw it. We had been looking for a property just like it for years and we both knew we would know it when we saw it. Many a weekend was spent with a weekend real estate paper and long drives and animated plans. We traveled from Toodyay to Wandering and everywhere in between, finding little gems and letting our imaginations run wild. We came close a few times, but each opportunity had more minus's than plus's.

The Real Estate Agents picture - this is what we saw that special day.

On our way to a friends for a New Years Day BBQ 2010, we took a detour to just 'check out the area'. We both saw this house, set right back on a few acres of grass, a farmhouse nestled in trees with wide verandas and everything we both always loved. As we drove along the road frontage we excitedly said to each other that this was exactly the type of house we wanted. At the very edge of the land, near the driveway I saw this sign out of the corner of my eye. 

"Stop" I yelled ... It said 'For Sale'.

We discounted it. Sadly but resignedly, this area was WAY out of our price range. On the way to our friends, we dreamed and let our imaginations run wild that one day we would buy some land and build that type of house on it. We felt happy to have just seen a perfect example of what we could achieve one day. It was great Mr K and I felt the same way and had the same vision. This was enough. Of course, this didn't stop me having a little fantasy, somehow finding the money and imagining myself living there. Fantasy is what I lived on.

Closest picture I can find that represents what was in my head. Even this doesn't compare to my special place now!

At the BBQ, Mr K and I were still enamored by the vision, so of course we mentioned it to our hosts, one of which was in real estate. She said, why don't you phone up the agents and see what they are asking for it. My stomach turned over at this comment - excitement that we would ever entertain this step and dread that my fantasy would be extinguished by confirmation this was out of our league. Its the same reasoning I give when I have lotto tickets which I never check - I don't want to confirm the end of the fantasy by finding out for sure its not a winner.

But we did make that phone call, and I watched Mr K's face closely for a clue. He had his poker face on, so when he got off the phone and gave a listing price that was a lot less than I had ever hoped, I was like a eight year old just told I was going to the Royal Show with $5 pocket money! Our real estate host friend, in true fashion, then fueled and facilitated the fantasy and the rest of this story has a happy ending which I have written about before. It was also the birth of this blog.

Links to a smattering of Wattle Grove posts :

• Its the Little Things
• My Place
• Dear Santa, I Wanna Poneeee for christmas
• 150 Posts
• Today was first time in ages
• Mop Up Day
• Building Stable Yards and Doors
• Demolition Day
• Planning Day
• Farm Day
• Bonfire Night
• Aww Gawd, is it Monday already?
• Progress so far
• Being kind comes back to you
• We have a special visitor today
• Where we are at now
• Wow! What Week
• So how's the Journey so far?
• Poached egg for breakfast

Today I can say that the waiting, at least, has an end date! 

That strange marker of all things new, Christmas* 2014, is the date we have given ourselves to have moved in by. This property has a special place, a little magic corner that everyone who goes there says the same thing ... "this would be a great place to have long, leisurely lunches."

Time for plans. And where better to share them than this blog and all the wonderful readers who have shared this journey.

Mr K and my Dad having 'lunch' by the stream after a hard days work on the stables.

* strange for an atheist like me

Where my time not blogging is being spent

This weeks assignment for a writing course (the one I will finish the same week Uni starts!)  was to write a character description, and link this to a life lesson.  I chose my Grandad as he was such an enigma to me.  The parameters of the essay were it had to be 400-500 words (so hard when I had much more to say), we had to use words to create the character, put the character in a physical situation and then join in the life lesson.  It could be essay or fiction.  I might try and write this again as a fictional story.

The upshot is that I am really enjoying the challenges of the assignments.  I start at Curtin Uni next Monday, the first unit is online. But it does keep me away from my blogging, I need to retire from work so I can just write all day!!

Grandad and Grandma - he always loved cats!

My Grandfathers Gift (or Don’t look a Gift Horse in the Mouth?)

My grandfather scared me.  He was gruff and looked like a small wiry pirate. With his ginger, long beard, sea swept face, and thick glasses, he always looked ancient to me.  His fingers were all bent, one of them at right angles, and he always smelt of wood putty and pipe tobacco.  He evoked an air of distance, like the leader of a dog pack, us littlies approached at our peril, especially when he was eating his sharp cheddar and bread.  He was fond of the saying Silence is Golden, something that I never really understood at the time, but I got the gist when he growled it.  Sometimes, he would pay me attention, by picking me up to show me the little blue cuckoo that would spring out of its carved wooden door when the hour hand struck.  If he was in a good mood, he would indulge my request when I said ‘again Grandad’. 

Grandad rarely gave us kids presents, and certainly not when it was expected.  Christmas, Birthday, Easter - we learnt to not ever expect gifts from him.  I never really thought of this until I was older because what we didn’t know did not hurt us.  As I got older, friends would show me amazing gifts they had got from their Grandparents.  One time my best friend received from her Grandma the biggest Easter egg I had ever seen, nesting in a cardboard box with cellophane and ribbons. I wondered why I never got such things.  It was a fleeting thought, certainly never an issue. 

No, Grandad did not spoil us with material things, but as we grew into more independent beings, and I dare say less silly, noisy and sticky, he was more than generous with his time, his careful teachings, his wisdom.  By the time I was a teenager he treated me as a grown-up. I knew this was given as a gift, so I acted as such around him.  I loved just being in his calm, quiet, contemplative company.  He was always doing something interesting, making things with wood, tinkering with tools, in the garden, reading, debating politics or religion.  Even watching him prepare his pipe, was engaging.

He took a keen interest in my horse riding.  He was a man who loved animals and appreciated the skills in handling them.  One day, he turned up at my parent’s farm, with a very pretty little palomino mare, in foal.  She was way too small for me to ride, but he wanted me to teach my little cousins to ride and care for a horse.  This was his gift to me – the temperament and tool to guide and teach the young as he had done in the ways of quiet, steady, consistent patience.  A horse was the perfect gift for this lesson. 

  

Hi Ho Hi Ho Its back to work we Go

Day 2 back in the saddle (oh I wish I was a jillaroo and my office was on the back of a horse) and it feels like the last 11 days never happened.  Like a big blurry nightmare dream!

Well apart from the following evidence:

• The beautiful Potting Bench (pics to follow) my darling Dad made for me that is still sitting on the front veranda with Mr K's tools on top (sorry Dad)
• Red and white table cloths, placemats and napkins washed but un-ironed all over my craft room, fighting for room with left-over wrapping paper, gift tags and ribbons.
• Half a very boozy Christmas cake in a tin on the dresser that I try hard to resist eating for breakfast (seems there is an unwritten rule that Christmas cake for breakfast is ok when you are 2-3 days past the Big Day, but after that you are just a greedy slob - kinda like the speedo's or undies debate)
• Getting to play with my very big surprise gift from Mr K - a zoom and fish eye lens
• Bowls of Quality Street still strategically placed around the house, taunting me, teasing me.
• A giant ham on the bone still taking up valuable fridge space when I need that for salads and fruit.
• 17 beach towels all scattered around the pool (well actually I am exaggerating there.  I washed them all today and folded them and put them back in the towel basket ready for the next guests to all pop over with bathers but no towels!)
• A bottle of Hendricks Gin, hidden in my secret stash, a much prized present from son #1
• Pants that I wore a month ago feeling rather snug, and more alarming, they were stretch!
• Odd things I need to find homes for - lovely gifts, but they need a home

May all my fellow Bloggers, Readers, Family and Friends have their dreams come true in 2013. 

And remember if they don't .... A smooth sea never made a skillful sailor!

Dear Santa ...I wanna poneeee for Christmas!

Not that I would EVER has asked this way, no sirree.  I was brung up right.  I asked nicely and politely .. the first few times.  Then I asked incessantly for weeks and months afterwards.  Then I pretended that I already had a pony - I fed it, talked to it, rode it - which freaked the parents out, and then, one very special 11th birthday, I did indeed get my wish.  It was the most special and exciting and thrilling day of my life.  My very own horse.  I didn't have to share him with the other kids from the riding school, he could come home to live with me, I could talk to and look after a real horse instead of my imaginary one. I was the luckiest eleven year old alive.

We named him Tullie.  Spelt like my name, Jodie. He was a worm ridden, scrawny, barely broken, brumby (we think).  To me, he was like black beauty.  We did so much together, learnt an awful lot (me), had tears and frustrations (him) - but we came to mature into a pretty good team.  Sadly, I lost him way too soon, he got very, very sick and we had to put him to sleep.  I still love that horse, I have never found one to replace him.  I have owned many horses since him, but never one like him. 

My beautiful and kind Tullie

I still yearn for a horse in my life.  It has been a deep desire that is always there, yet circumstances have asked me to shove that desire down deep.  Every now and again, it creeps back up to the surface and I am left with a sadness and emptiness that only the hot breath of a horse's soft muzzle can fill.  I did get to buy a horse property, but can't live there yet.

So, Santa, if you are listening.  This is what I would like for Christmas. Please.  Pretty Please.  I have been such a good girl, all year. 

1. The Business to actually make a profit next year so we can pay off our overdraft, then we can afford to move
2. Mr K's Mum to find her ideal unit in the care facility she wants, so we can move
3. Real Estate to pick up in our area so we can sell our house and move to the horse property
4. Our current (and lovely) tenants to find their own dream house so they are happy to move out
5. To move into my beloved horse property and I will never ask for a single thing.
6. Oh, well, maybe a pony ? !  ?

Got all that Santa?  You the MAN!

My new horse!

Found this handsome lad and just had to bring him home with me.

He has been stabled in the hallway for the moment, but he will move to my office when it has been renovated.

What a mess for him to live in!

Farm Shopping Day

Start of the long weekend (Anzac Day) and a little under the weather after the dinner out last night.  Sad day too, Charlie the Wonder Dog lost her battle yesterday, had a good chat with Crez, and remembered what a sweet dog she was. 

Off to the Farm Shop to get what we needed to put in electric fencing at the property.  Bart has been a bit rough with our lovely new white fences, and needs to be taught some manners.  Bit of a wild stab in the dark, neither Kim or I have had much experience with electric fences, apart from getting a boot when we put a foot, or hand, wrong!

The sales guy was very jovial, but not that helpful.  It was hard thinking ahead to all that we would need, but we walked out having spent $450.  The only thing I recognised was a roll of wire.  The rest we would have to make up as we went along, rather Kim would .. this is his department.  We chose this Electric Fence System as it seemed to be a well set out system, with all the parts we needed at hand.

A bit more shopping,Tradelink for the pipe for the paddock waterers, Bunnings for paint samples and ideas to redecorate the basso home, then a nice brunch at a cafe.  Lazier afternoon, a nap, so decadent!