I’ll be the first to admit that I was a little unprepared to purchase my own piece of property. I’ve never had to worry about boring things like gutters and disconnecting garden hoses and hooking up the dryer vent in a way that won’t start a fire.

These are my stories from the ‘acre of hard knocks’:
(Everything mentioned below occurred in the span of 4 days. You can imagine the wild ride that has taken place in my life since September.)

*Shoeing Day*

Dani: That plug you usually use hasn’t been working. So I put an extension cord in there for you.
Farrier: Do you need an electrician?
Dani: I don’t know. I hope not. But do you know one? Who also works on trailer wiring, per chance?
Farrier: I do. *Quizzical look* Did you try the GFCI?
Dani: I don’t know what that means.
Farrier: The little button. Did you push the little button.
Dani: It has one of those?! I didn’t notice that.
Farrier: *Deep sigh* I’m going to push the little button.
Dani: Good idea. Let me know what happens.
Farrier: It’s working again.
Dani: Hey, look at that!

I don’t know why he continues to tolerate Harley and I every six weeks. But I am sure glad he does!

*My Realtor-Friend Visits*

Realtor-Friend: It’s colder inside your house than it is outside.
Dani: My gas bill was outrageous last month! And my power bill was a little high. So I’m not using my furnace. Just two strategically placed space heaters. My power bill will go up a little, but hopefully my gas bill will go down a lot.

Then I find this alarming information regarding my energy usage on the Avista website:

Is this something a *good* adult realizes before purchasing a house?
Probably. 
Was I too distracted by a loft, original Fir floors, and my new lamb to pay attention to the finer points of the real estate agreement?
IT’S BEGINNING TO LOOK LIKE THAT. 

I text my realtor-friend instantly.
Dani: My water heater is GAS?!
Realtor-Friend: Uh, yes.
Dani: Well my plan to lower my gas bill has gone wildly off the tracks. I have been doubling my hot showers to make up for the frigid conditions in my house. I am horrified to see my next gas bill.

And now we wait.

*Dad Checks In*

Dad: Your irrigation lines haven’t frozen, have they?
Dani: *vomit-inducing flashback to my neighbor saying their irrigation has a crack and it will cost $10k to find and fix*  Uhhhhh. I HOPE NOT.
Dad: You have that exposed valve. It makes me nervous. Probably should have made an insulated box to go over it.
Dani: Well I have straw, bailing twine, and a tarp. I GUESS THAT WILL HAVE TO DO.

The valve is now covered. Macgyver-style.
1 out of 3 isn’t bad.

#FortHarley

Last night I spent the evening transforming myself into a presentable human being.

Vacuumed the bedroom.
Washed some dishes.
Decluttered a bit.
Toenails polished.
Legs freshly shaved.
Chin hairs plucked.
Covered up my blonde roots.
Conditioning treatment on my flowing locks.
I even attempted to do something (anything) with these brows.
(I know the Lord is perfect in all his ways. But when I look at what He gave me for eyebrows, it does trigger a tinge of doubt.)

I was feeling fresh.

‘If bein’ fresh till death is a crime, I think it’s time for me to see the jury.’
– I commented into my mirror, regarding my freshness.

I climbed into bed,
Eager to wake in the morning and wear my new pleather jeggings and fancy red high heels.

*Spoiler Alert:

So fresh.

I awoke in the middle of the night to the feeling of a spider running across my face.
Not just a feeling, guys.
A spider. Was on. My face.

‘This is the opposite of fresh. The jury needs to take a recess. Chamillionaire would be so disappointed in me.’
– I sighed while trying to keep my composure and refrain from reaching for the hatchet I keep under my mattress.

The room was dark so I couldn’t pinpoint the creature’s exact species.
It did have a gray cloud of death floating above it, so I remain convinced that it was a Bitey McDoom.

It disappeared from view almost instantly.
Where did it go?

Fight or Flight Mode: Engaged.

Pillows, blankets, mattresses, and giant stuffed caterpillars flew through the air as I attempted to draw the beast from it’s hiding spot.

‘FIGHT ME.’
– I snarled as I ransacked my own belongings like a feral raccoon.

It was to no avail.
He gone.
Didn’t even pitch in for the heating bill.

Now I face a crossroads:
Where do I go from here?

Clearly my apartment (nay, all of Central Point) is wildly uninhabitable;
Especially after I release 6 bug bombs and a full can of Raid in my bedroom.

(As I’m sure you know, a ‘species’ is defined as a group of animals that can inner-breed and produce fertile offspring. During my research to find out if spiders are a ‘species’ or a ‘breed’ (I take the accuracy of my vocabulary in these posts very seriously.) I found that it is ‘unlikely’ that cross-breeding different types of spiders would be successful. Only ‘unlikely.’ This information gave way to a whole new league of horrors in my imagination.

‘I don’t have time for this! I need to get some sleep. I almost met death this evening. I need to look fresh tomorrow. What if I see the jury?!’
– I said out of desperation when Jesus refused to give me some supernatural NyQuil or Xanax.)

Will I take this far enough to find out if one six-foot princess can sleep soundly in the back of a Ford Fiesta?
I may.

Will I impulsively buy a house and some cows and a slew of miniature and useless animals?
I may.

Will I simply move back into my bedroom and cry a lot and trust that the dominion the good Lord gave me over the animals will be enough to protect me?
Most likely.

– Dani
😉 🙂 😀

I’ve said goodbye to a car that’s been in my driveway for over half my life.

• 13 years
• 8 states
• 5 jobs
• 4 schools
• 1 tumultuous teenage love affair
• 8,365 coffee spills

We’ve been through much together.

Car seats and fishing poles.
Flat tires and Tow Truck Driver Joe.
Belly laughs and sunset chats.
Best friends and break ups.
Dead batteries and awkward conversations.
Mid-day naps and volleyball games.
Sliding through barbed-wire fences and smacking into poor baby deers.
Nice cops and mean cops.
Freeways and mountain tops.
Fender benders and friends wiping boogers on the seats.
Piercing shops and house parties.
Midnight Taco Bell adventures and rainy talks with Jesus.
Goodnight kisses and forever goodbyes.
Uptown Funk and Eye of the Tiger.
Beach days and bonfire nights.
Mount Rushmore fog and Montana snow.
Eating donuts and doing donuts.
Puppy dogs and bowling balls.

There’s no better way to say goodbye than with a photoshoot by Renagade.
(Swanky slideshow below. Be sure to linger.)

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– Dani
😉 🙂 😀