We have an appointment tomorrow at the title company to sign our names dozens of times on a mountain of paper. It will be my third and, I sincerely hope, final time through that ritual for this property – first the land loan, then the construction loan, and now we’re refinancing into a plain vanilla mortgage. The occasion set me to thinking about where we started, and just how far we’ve come here. So… a little homestead history photo tour:
What’s hard to see in photos is how the most basic infrastructure of this place has changed in really dramatic ways. We’ve probably done as much on/below ground work as above-ground. Power and water came in via easements across neighbors’ property, and started with a single port. (Oh, the days when a single electrical outlet and a trouble light were real upgrades.) The utility networks, the septic system, more than half a mile of driveway… it’s all been installed and extended and upgraded.
I’ve said nothing of how this place has grown up around us, despite our best efforts to tame it. The first alder saplings that we were distinctly excited to see along the road that first year are now 20-some feet tall. This piece of land was logged just before we bought it, and it’s been amazing and frequently overwhelming to witness the ferocity with which the forest has grown to fill the voids created by that.
Of course there’s plenty more that we’d like to do, wish we had been able to do already, and will continue to do for many years. But there’s something newly tangible about it all. Fifteen years of set payments – it all seems so finite, so known, so simple. In what is most certainly a sign of my advancing age, fifteen years just doesn’t seem like all that long. It feels imminently… doable. Hopeful, even.
That’s right friends, mortgage papers give me hope. Surely you’re not shocked.