The Surly Farmer – Page 2 – Marginalia, Trivialities & Suchlike

We Are a Once Again a One House Household, and Zillow Sucks

March 3, 2021

Good news: We finally, FINALLY, managed to sell our Charleston house last week!

Not so great news: Ever met anyone who can lose money on real estate? Well, you have now. Oy.

We put the house on the market in September 2019, after finding an agent who would actually show up and do the work. I think I described this before, but the first two real estate agents missed appointments, did not respond to emails and calls, and never produced comps as promised. We ended up with a part time agent (never a good thing, I think). Dr. Evil and I had an idea of how the house should be priced, but the agent provided comps suggesting a price a good 15% higher, and we went with the higher price after listening to her pitch about how important it was to get the price just right at the listing date. Guess what; it was too high.

When we listed it, there were several houses on the street that were also for sale, and ours was the priciest of the bunch. No offers came before the holidays, and we decided to leave the price where it was, hoping for a better spring market. Know what happened when spring came? Covid. I’ll spare you the boring details, but we lowered the price a couple times, and the house was showing, but no offers were coming in. Patience, right?

The house directly across the street from us went on the market for about 20% less than ours. It’s a newer house, but not as large and the lot is not great, either. The price on that house came crashing down, and it finally sold for 45% of its original price. We think it has structural issues relating to the slope of the lot and the foundation/basement walls. Because of that sale price, Zillow (or if you will allow me, FUCKING Zillow), reduced its “Zestimate” on our property by a whole bunch. Seeing the suggested value on Zillow, a clever buyer swooped in with an offer of . . . exactly the Zestimate. So what’s a seller to do? We bit the bullet and accepted the offer. An offer that was 15% below our then asking price, and 25% less than the “just right” initial listing price.

In the meantime, the house across the street underwent what we’ll call the “flipper special treatment.” You know, new flooring, removal of a dividing wall, fancy countertops, etc . . . And they put it on the market for the same price we’d initially listed ours. And. They. Got. An. Offer. In. One. Day. Thanks, Zillow.

But we’re done with Charleston, so we’ve got that going for us, which is nice.

$olar

March 1, 2021

Our power doesn’t go out terribly often here—certainly less often than it did in West Virginia—but when it does, De Rechos notwithstanding, it goes out for longer periods. Dr. Evil is, like so many others these days, glued to her Zoom machine 8 to 26 hours a day, and needs reliable, constant ‘lectric. We have a small portable generator, but it’s a genuine pain to haul up to the house, especially since power outages go hand in hand with crap weather. The solution? Well, it’s right overhead, and free. Yeah, “free.”

We asked a local solar installer to give us a proposal for a system that would offset our grid usage and provide backup power during outages. We’ve been hearing about how solar costs have been coming down in recent years, and were pleased that solar tax credits, which the Former Guy wanted to eliminate (because, reasons?), have been extended another couple of years. This, combined with advances in battery storage, made it seem like now was the time. It was a nice dream while it lasted. The bid? $53,300!!! Now, that’s the cash price, and it can be financed over either 10 or fifteen years, which would “only” triple or quadruple our current monthly cost of energy. As they say in France, le sigh.

We’ve asked our solar person to recalculate based on a smaller system, but I’m afraid we still won’t like the answer. The sad fact is that solar remains a rich (and young) person’s game. I suppose if you bundled it in with the price of new construction it wouldn’t hurt so much, but that’s not where we are.

I’m Back!

February 27, 2021

I apologize for the long absence, I simply had zero enthusiasm for the project. I’m going to give it another go now and we’ll see how it goes.

First things first: was it just me, or did the time between November 3rd and January 20th seem to last forever? I thought last April, as the pandemic settled down upon us like a lead blanket, was a long month, but damn, those 78 days were really something. Trump carried our tiny county 77% to 22% with a 71% voter turnout. Fortunately, we do most of our business (such as it is these days) in the neighboring county (you know, the one with a university in it), so that saves me from glaring at everyone I encounter out in the world.

My folks have received both of their covid vaccines, and Dr. Evil’s folks received their first dose. The eldest kid actually caught the bug a couple weeks ago, but she seems to be quite on the mend. *whew** We have no idea when we might be able to get our shots, but I don’t think it’ll be for a while. I’m not complaining, though, I mean who saw a vaccine appearing so quickly?

We got a week or so of stupid cold temperatures and a mess of snow and ice this month (February, am I right?). Know what’s great? Shoveling snow and ice from the chicken run before a) the sun has risen, and b) you’ve had your first cup of coffee. By the end of the snow, the three corners of the run looked like a shopping center parking lot with mountains of snow piled up. One bright side: it’s hilarious watching chickens slip and slide on ice.

On the topic of chickens, most of our girls are winter layers, but production slowed down dramatically around the end of December . . . BECAUSE THE HENS WERE EATING THE EGGS!! Nasty little birdies. I’ve found a solution, but it came with a price tag. Sure, we’re getting “free” eggs, but at what cost? Heh.

The garden continues to produce! We’re down to a little clump of kale, some Brussels sprouts which are no long producing sprouts, but whose leaves are still tasty treats for the hens, and a solid bed of upland greens. We’re planning for this year’s garden with some big changes; last year’s garden was a pandemic garden, as in, what if the stores have no food?!? But this year will be less doomsdayish.

That’s it for now. Next time, we’ll talk solar.

Bountiful Indeed

July 12, 2020

We were deluged with lettuce, collards, and Swiss chard a couple weeks ago, and as soon as those petered out, the summer squash, beans and cucumbers came in. This gardening stuff is pretty alright.

(I hate squash.)

Fort Bountiful Update

June 25, 2020

We were awash in lettuce for a while, but it’s petering out with the warm weather. The daikons did not produce very large roots, but everything else that did emerge is doing well. We thought the flea beetles might get the best of the eggplants, but it looks like we have them on the run. Anyway, here’s a photo from yesterday.

Back On Track

June 14, 2020

All I can say is I’m thankful for mechanical advantage and hydraulic jacks.

Then Came a Great Wind

June 5, 2020

And with that great wind, 3.64 inches of rain in a few hours, so extra bonus: flooded basement.

It’s Infrastructure Week! (Month . . . Quarter . . .)

May 27, 2020

After finishing the new chicken coop, I found I was somehow still in building mode. So please give a warm welcome to . . . the Woodshedrack!

It still needs a roof and some slat walls on the narrow ends, but that’ll have to wait for the sunburn I got while building it to fade some. Ah, that Northern European/English/Irish pigmentation.

Naturally, it did not go up without issues. See the pile of wood in the lower right corner? Yeah, that was right where the middle of the lefthand bay now stands. And the stack on the middle right? You guessed it. It was where the righthand bay is. This wood is from the tree that hit our Charleston house in November (I did mention that previously, didn’t I?), which means that I moved it five times already, and I’ll have to move it again into the rack, then again into the house. Please let me know if you’d like some efficiency advice.

Yesterday we finished planting in Ft. Bountiful. Ready for the inventory? In addition to the beets (two varieties), lettuce (three varieties), Swiss chard, collards, squash, daikon, carrots, tomatoes, and eggplants we had already planted, we added corn (three varieties, okra, squash (two varieties) pumpkin, beans (two varieties) watermelon, and cucumbers. Now to see what comes up. We’ve already had failures of radishes, broccoli, and cabbage.

Next up: new stairs.

Full Occupancy

May 20, 2020

We took delivery of the new chickens last week. I didn’t finish the coop a moment too soon; those little dinosaurs have GROWN. The big girls were shocked by the new arrivals and spent the first day complaining at the top of their lungs. They calmed down some by the second day, but then transitioned into bullies. They chase the little ones around and peck at their hindquarters (I swear I raised them better than this). I’ve warned them that the little ones will not be little forever and they are vastly outnumbered.

Early this morning I saw the motion detector light on the coop had gone on and looked out to see a raccoon testing the defenses. It sniffed at the door, then went underneath only to come back out within a minute and wander away. This is a developing story.

Dr. Evil gave me a fancy drone for my birthday, so naturally it’s been raining since I got it. I managed to take it out twice, but only for a few minutes. It’s thrilling to fly. Hmm . . . make that thrilling combined with stressful, kind of like when you first get the training wheels off your bicycle, or the first time you lead a marching formation.

Speaking of Dr. Evil, she has not left the compound since March 14th! Big round of applause. Me, I’ve been to the grocery store for curbside pickup, to the feed store, and to Lowe’s for building supplies. In other words, not much different, save for no meals out. I miss someone else cooking. How are you folks dealing with life in the ‘rona?

Covid Champs!!

May 1, 2020

Of course delineating infection rates of a global pandemic county-by-county is a pretty fruitless exercise, but friends, I am here to tell you that our tiny slice of Appalachia was the last in the state to have a covid 19 infection. It was good while it lasted, but as of today, we’re up to 5 cases in a county of 13,000. Not NYC numbers, I know, but it’s still a bummer.

Zeyda and I have been working on the new hen house over the past few days (Festung Henne, as I am now calling it). It’s shaping up nicely, but it’s also reminding us of why we are not builders by trade. As I used to say, “Every time I drive a nail, I am reminded why I’m a cop and not a carpenter.”

More photos are coming, and I hope you are all well.