UnQualified

Darling and I totally don't qualify to rent an apartment.

To be fair, we never had to. In my experience, landlords and leasing agents don't care about your income if you show up to view the apartment with first and last month rent, in cash, as well as the deposit. Cash is king, baby, to the degree that six years ago I was able roll into Austin with no job and no prospects but still sign for a two-bedroom townhouse in central Austin. Amazing what you can do with a handy $2,500.

Today, on the other hand, I can prove employment (for the time being, at least), stable work and rental history (the co-op should count for that much, at least), and in-state residency for the better part of a decade...I can also cover the deposit and am willing to sign weeks and weeks in advance...yet I'm nowhere near swindling my way into a studio located closer to San Antonio than downtown Austin.

I just don't have $2,500 to make my usual leasing bribe, nor can I imagine saving that much in the following months. As much as it chafes, however, Darling and I have to man up and start saving again. Not only do we have to save, but we have to save close to $1,900, if we want the apartment that's caught my eye, the apartment that will be available at the start of June. As singularly painful as it is to say this, Darling and I absolutely must save $200 more than we currently owe in debt. I have to stop paying debt. Then, after I stop paying debt, I have to let cash accumulate in the shiny new savings account I opened with my credit union. And THEN - and here's where a sharp, throbbing pain forms just behind my right eye - I have to say goodbye to that money and watch my net worth dip back below zero.


Which is acceptable. Very acceptable, normal, reasonable, and healthy. Darling and I will then have our own apartment and can go back to the good old days of buying our own groceries (packaging-free, natch), baking our own bread, growing some potted veggies, and exploring a brand of self-reliant sustainability that fell to the wayside in our years of cooperative living. And if we're able to save that cash for the apartment, it couldn't possibly be much longer before catching back up and paying off the last of our debt once and for all. Heck, at least then we can have something to show for ourselves.

Of course, as always, I'm skipping a vital step: I'm unemployed as of next week! But I have a plan, one just slightly more sensible than totally depending on arts-and-crafts to make a living, or even arts-and-crafts and Darling's side job...I'm going to pedicab.

I may not be as cute as this pedicabber, but hopefully I'll be busier

I've lived with a number of pedicab riders and have been impressed by their income, flexible schedules, and general physique. It's something I've always wanted to try (actually, being a bike courier was something I wanted to do since watching Dark Angel as a kid, but pedicab is the only cycling job I can find in Austin). I'd intended to try it out before falling out of shape after my bike tour, but I was out of shape by Christmas so that didn't work out.

Considering I'm trying damn near everything else that intimidates me in 2013 (stand up comedy, self-employment, working on my first book...), I might as well try something that might pay for the rest of my mistakes...or at least compensate for my diet choices.

So, goals this week:
* Apply for the various licenses needed to start pedicabbing, and contact various companies to determine rates.
* Finish the first set of guitars AND the third set, as we have exactly seven days before the craft fair!
* Sell plasma for the first time (speaking of things that intimidate me) and hope to God I get enough to cover gas until my paycheck on Friday
* Fix up my friend's mountain bike he said I could borrow
* Price the instruments (holdover from last set of goals) 

Why Invest When You Can Buy?

Lizzie recently commented: "Mortgage rates are at historic lows right now; 3.8% for a 15 year fixed. If it took you 5 years to pay off $16,000 how long will it take you to save up $150,000?"

It took me five years to bring my net worth from -$16,000 to nearly $0. During that period of time I also got extensive dental work done, went through the immigration process with my husband, worked part-time for several years, and paid for several semesters of community college out of pocket. While it technically took five years to pay off about $16,000 worth of debt, it only took Darling and me three months to pay close to $6,000 of that debt. It's not just that we finally buckled down and applied ourselves. It simply took several years for some of our seeds to yield harvest.

I therefore feel entitled to assume that Darling and I will continue to make much more money than we did for the first four years of The Challenge and, as a result, will have much more to work with in the coming years of saving and investing. I chose monthly amount of $2,000 for the following calculations because it is easy to work with and relatively reasonable. This is not an exact plan, but two simple scenarios illustrating my reasoning that saving for a home will put me in a better position than paying a mortgage.

So, assuming that Darling and I were be approved for a loan, found a house we loved and qualified for, and - despite the our awful credit - managed to purchase a home for $150,000 at 3.8% interest, we could pay $2,000 a month and own our home in seven years.  That is excluding all purchase fees, insurance, property taxes, furniture, appliances, maintenance, how much more we would pay on groceries and utilities from not sharing our home with half a dozen other people, the cost of commuting in the event that our jobs move away from our homes, and the million other consequences of home-ownership. Best-case scenario: In seven years I would be 34-year-old debt-free homeowner with no money. Despite paying my loan in only seven years, and somehow qualifying for these historically low interest rates, I will still have paid nearly $21,000 in interest!

If, instead, I put the idea of owning a house directly out of my mind, and instead set aside $2,000 a month, I would be able to invest in a 30-year U.S. Treasury Bond at a little more than 3% interest in five months. Even if I did not re-invest the resulting $25 increase of monthly income, I would still be able to make the exact same investment 16 times in seven years (besides likely fluctuations in interest). In this entirely fictional scenario, by 2019 I would be 34, debt free, have $160,000 invested in the safest possible way, and a passive monthly income of $400 a month. Although this is excluding the cost of renting, it's worth pointing out that Darling and I only pay $400 a month to pay for our room at the co-op, the rest of our "rent" goes to groceries, taxes, repairs, utilities, and the myriad expenses that would increase exponentially with personal home ownership. And I'm also completely ignoring the financial effects of the passive income resulting from the bond, which should more than make up for any extra potential expense of renting vs. owning.

I could then sell all those bonds, buy a $150,000 house and be a 34-year-old debt free home-owner with $10,000 in cash.

The Benefits of Cooperative Living

Last night the house hosted a potluck and clothing swap. I got to stuff myself silly with pie and found two "new" shirts. My cousin-in-law K attended, which was very cool. She's going back to college and trying to move out of her family home and I had a very, very hard time not spewing cooperative propaganda. I kept catching myself, not meaning to preach but strangely overwhelmed by my own enthusiasm.

I didn't realize just how in love with this lifestyle I am before last night, when the benefits had to be described in hard numbers and casual ease. "The rents is so low," I said, "and we have procedures to handle any social issues that arise." It was like describing the benefits of marriage in terms of filing taxes and acquiring health insurance. The finances are the most shallow and celebrated nature of cooperative living. In the meantime, the friendships, support, and challenges are immeasurably more valuable and almost impossible to talk about. Especially the challenges, which have made me a better, stronger, and more loving person than I could have imagined. The challenges that have pushed Darling and me to experience our marriage as the intricate institution that it is, to tear it down and rebuild it as constantly as we ourselves are forced to evolve.

It never gets easier. Marriage, friendships, family...the same B.S. rears its ugly head time and time again, year after year, generation after generation. Many of our behaviors are learned, others seem hopelessly embedded in our DNA. I walk in the shadow of Bipolar Disorder and Alcoholism, the twin guardsmen of my family's genetic down-spiral. Do you know how that comes into play in terms of social cooperation?

The successful group environment demands the best of us, all the time, there's no room for the micro-biological in terms of running a household or business or family. Not to suggest we don't face those obstacles, quite the contrary. Our housemates get depressed, overwhelmed, heartbroken, and fall off their personal wagons every week. They lose jobs and family members and sometimes their dignity. But they are never left to languish, never allowed to backtrack too far. As a group, we focus on moving forward becoming better. The building blocks of health - a moderately clean home, wholesome groceries, heat and hot water - are consistently available. Someone is always available to listen, someone who knows and cares about you. Spend a week in bed, or partying too hard, or whatever. But next week? You have to get the groceries. You have to make the meetings. You have to be the shoulder to cry on, make the tea, hunt down a bottle of Asprin...Also? We have to paint the house, fix the fridge, haul out the trash, plant the garlic, hold a yard sale, stop by Habitat for Humanity, plan a fundraiser, and rework the budget.

Those learned habits and behaviors? We overcome them. Over time, we discover the difference between who we are and who we choose to be. We learn that doing the dishes, by hand, after every meal is so easy that dishwashers are a laughable invention, even for a household of nine. We learn that replacing the motor in a washing machine is easy even if we're not "handy." We learn that certain tones of voice aren't necessary to make our point, then we question what makes us angry and why. We learn that cooking isn't such a mystery after all, we learn how to ask for help, we learn how to listen.

We change for the better. So maybe the next bad week won't be quite as devastating as the last.

Not every housing co-op is for every person. There are many, many dysfunctional group living situations - Darling and I have both lived in several. Our own house has been through some very rough times and perhaps wasn't the most nourishing place to live at one time or another. But the reward of looking, working, and honestly trying to build a group home is indefinable. I wish I could give it to every young adult and every mature senior who feels alone and unappreciated, everyone who has something to learn and something to teach, every couple who lacks the family context necessary to thrive. Hopefully that's where our world is heading towards, a revival of large families and tight-knit communities, a replacement of the "independent" man with the empowered individual. Hopefully I get to be a part of that for the rest of my life.

Out With The Old, In With The Built

Before Darling headed west I got his permission to de-clutter. After years of focusing on frugal accumulation of furniture, and then downsizing substantially to squeeze into the co-op, we still have a hard time with organization. I think it's primarily a matter of utility. We really don't own that much stuff, our space just isn't equipped to handle it. I mean, have you ever had a kitchen without a utensil drawer, knife block, or spice rack? I have. If there isn't a place for everything, ain't nothing gonna be in place. That's what's happening in our room right now.

The first thing I sent away was a beloved coffee table that was gathering dust in the corner. We have a table surplus in the room, including the one Darling made last year and a telephone table serving as a bed stand. I really loved this one, but honestly couldn't tell you how I would use it except as a junk repository. I gave it to a group of people running a new permaculture community in East Austin who will definitely appreciate it.

Today my goal was to give away the book case. Tall and wide, it would be a total prize if not for its depth of about five inches. To make matter worse, an uneven bottom pitches it precariously forward. It can't be trusted with much more than DVDs and paperbacks.

This afternoon I finally got the chance to sort through the house's selection of odds and ends to come up with a replacement. After a goodly long while I came up with six two-foot lengths of 2x8 and twelve wall brackets. Besides the length, they were basically ideal. I primed and painted them a creamy-tan color and spent forever hunting for the perfect sized screws.

My first plan was to mount the pieces side-by-side to produce three four-foot shelves, but could foresee the inevitable sloppy appearance. I then thought to mount the shelves in a corner at right angles, which might lend a sense of design and intention to the stubby shelves, but there would be quite a bit of lost space where they came together.

I figured a similar effect could be gained by placing one shelf on one wall at the corner, and the next shelf on the adjoining wall about sixteen inches higher. Unfortunately, that placed the highest shelf out of my reach and the lowest shelf at knee-level.

I finally mounted one shelf against the corner, and two more on either side, one sixteen inches higher, the other sixteen inches lower, at varying distances from the corner. On the adjoining wall I placed the other three shelves in a similar design at equal heights. The result is neatly asymmetrical and creates intermittent focal points perfect for framed art. I was able to move all the books off the case and give it to a roommate (who had been warned of its defects, of course). Now I just have to determine whether my rocking chair or remaining table belongs in that corner or against either wall.

Fixin' It Tips

Not much was repaired in the house I grew up in: once something broke, it stayed that way. The doorknob between my room and my brother's, for instance, came apart once and was never replaced. To this day my mom opens that door with a pair of pliers.

As a result, I've always been enamored with mechanically-minded people. I basically swooned upon discovering Darling had basic DIY skills. On the flip side, I was bitterly resentful when my beloved couldn't fix something, regardless of the necessary skill. It took an absurdly long time for this feminist to pick up a wrench herself.

It was moving into a co-op that did it. After years of expecting landlords to deal with broken appliances, and moving when they didn't, I finally developed a sense of stewardship over the stuff my family depends on. The appliances and fixtures in our home aren't simply junk we temporarily pay to use. Our house and property is a gift passed down for over thirty years from fellow communitarians and an inheritance we will eventually leave behind. More important, when something breaks, we pay to replace it, and we see that reflected in our rent.

For whatever reason, that bothers some of us more than others. Few of us will hesitate at all before calling an outside repairman for any reason, which I like to avoid if possible. It was easy enough, I found, to replace loose screws or even entire faucets. But there is a small contingent within the house that is eager to replace anything, anything at all, at the drop of a hat.

Within a cooperative, she who acts first usually wins any debate. So when the washing machine broke, and people talked about buying a replacement, I was the one who did the very dirty job of purchasing and installing a new motor instead. For roughly $80 and a few hours of research and labor, I post-phoned an $800 purchase. That was about the point I discovered that fixing stuff isn't something some folks are born knowing how to do. As with baking and knitting, gardening and customer service, repair requires both skills and tools that must be acquired over time.

This is some of what I've learned about DIY so far:

• Borrow tools. Whatever it is you need, your neighbor has one rusting in his or her garage. Your neighborhood already hosts 200 precision screwdrivers, it does not need you to buy another from China.
• Google it. Whatever is broken, someone else has had that same problem and posted advice on how to fix it.
• Take it apart. You can't really diagnose a problem until you know how a system comes together. Children do this habitually for a good reason.
• Put it back together, even if you haven't identified the problem or solution. It's amazing how often this fixes simple issues. I've even repaired my laptop this way (something was jamming the fan, I think).
• Talk to hardware store employees. Shop local, or go to Lowes. Either way, these folks tend to have really good advice to impart. I've often had employees recommend different companies for special assistance and prices.

By accepting the responsibility of performing basic appliance and hardware repair in your home, you can save a good deal of money and recognize when it really is in your best interest to replace a piece of equipment. Plus, people will treat you like a superhero if they find out you can bake and re-grout a bathroom.

Work and Sloth

Today Bo and I did some work around the house. There's a dilapidated sort of ex-shed outside that looks pretty awful and has become a catch-all for tools and housekeeping supplies and big pieces of recyclable materials. Since this is right next to the main entrance of our house we've all grown pretty sick of the view. Our plan is to transform it into a cozy outdoor reading/coffee nook, complete with plenty of potted plants, a table and seating, and trellised walls for flowering vines.

We decided to start by leveling and installing a sort of floor, which meant creating an edge where sloping, tightly packed soil gave way to our sidewalk. Our first thought was to use cinder blocks, but that created an unnecessarily large and sudden step and also involved careful digging to make them all fit together at a uniform height. It quickly became obvious that we should use rocks instead, especially since we already use many in our landscaping and it had a much more smooth and organic feel.

Since rocks (which we gather for free), are used in our garden to produce walkways, raised beds, and small walls, we keep them next to the compost bin. The compost bin is about forty feet from where we working, so the first job was to move several heavy stones across that distance. We used a wheelbarrow for one or two trips, but the tire was flat and we couldn't take it the entire distance due to a split-level area spanned by stairs. When we had about a dozen rocks, each weighing at least ten pounds, We attempted the difficult job of piecing them together.

It soon became apparent that we needed larger, flatter stones. Two were in the garden, weighing well over fifty pounds each. After a little hunting we eventually dug up two that were in the side yard, one of which was easily pried up with a crowbar, the other halfway buried under ground. We had to take a break after transporting each of these monoliths, then undertook the massive task of placing, and, to my personal horror, rearranging the stones until they came together perfectly.

The next step was to find some free sand with which to level the small area. We found an advertisement on craigslist and will make the pick up on Friday. On the sand we will place stone tile if we can find some for free or perhaps some old, treated wood "flooring" I have in the garage.

This project is one of many to be tackled this week. Tomorrow Darling and I are going to dust and wash all the windows in the house, and Friday before and after picking up sand I've got a lot of baking to do for a big house party on Saturday!

In the meantime, lets talk about sloth, as it's my fourth post for My Money, My Life's 7 Deadly Sins meme.

Seven Things I Neglect To Do:

1. Respond to e-mails, phone messages, comments, or pretty much anything that doesn't involve face-to-face interactions. And I'm sorry, and I'm trying to get better about it. There's something about checking phone messages that just freaks me out. I do really enjoy writing letters, however.

2. Run errands. So there's something of an explanation behind this: since Darling and I don't have a car, we tend to arrange our lives around the bus system and regular weekly outings. Upon moving to Austin, we picked an apartment on the 3 route. The 3 took us to our bank, the grocery store, my friends' house, and the library, pretty much in that order. We never had to walk more than a block for a single errand. Since moving twice, however, the 3 is no longer convenient to us, and neither are most of those locations. And the co-op is located in such a way that if I need to go to the optometrist, the drug store, return a video, return a library book, and run to the bank, I don't have time to do more than one or two of those errands if I also have to work that day. So I basically just don't run errands anymore. Fortunately my life is set up so that I very rarely ever have to.

3. Housekeeping. Darling cleans the bathroom, makes the bed, does laundry, and all that jazz. Even when he attends school and works, I tend not to do these things.

4. Girly maintenance stuff. My daily hygiene routine is a shower with soap and shampoo, flossing and brushing a few times, and dressing in something clean, generally the first pair of jeans and shirt I see in my drawer. I never wonder if something matches. Every once in a while I use eyeliner. I do use my hippie deodorant crystal, and I shave as needed. I brush my hair most of the time. I've purchased some scents because I'm jealous of women who smell good and Darling likes it. I'm far too lazy to do more.

5. Shopping. I used to shop for recreation, but got out of the habit early in my marriage. Now I actually dislike shopping at all, for anyone, which actually quite annoys me. It's not a financial thing, it's that I'm not big on receiving gifts myself. Everything in the store, no matter how glitzy or utilitarian or cute, strikes me as a burden to be passed on to a friend or loved one, something that has to be stored and maintained and packed when they move...Lately I give all my girl friends gift certificates for manicures.

6. Cycling for recreation. This may seem strange, as I've cycled for 81 days in a row now. But truth be told, I never hop on the saddle for anything but utilitarian purposes, I never just go out to enjoy the gorgeous spring weather. Realizing this has revealed a lot to me about my tendency to exercise (or not).

7. Hunt for better jobs. Which anyone who reads this blog is well aware of :)

What Darling Does For A Living

I think Darling might be the least understood aspect of my lifestyle, at least so far as the blogosphere goes. Our relationship is not traditional by any stretch of the imagination. I was nineteen when we married, a fact that now boggles even my own imagination, especially since he is that much older than myself.

Darling is extremely likable. Intelligent and well-read. He can quote entire episodes of Monty Python, discuss each American presidency in detail, recite most of The Hitchhikers Guide to The Universe, or discuss which leader of which third-world country has done what to affect the value of someone's currency. He knows the best times to call Saudi Arabia if you want to catch someone before they leave their office, which super heroes are Marvel and which are DC and the general histories and happenings of both universes, how to build a computer, and how to give one hell of a foot massage.

Those who know us personally consider us the model couple. We can barely go a month without a friend quietly confiding in us that they consider our relationship to be absolutely ideal. My married brothers and sister ask us what our secret is. My thrice-divorced parents congratulate me on finding the perfect mate.

People who don't know Darling, however, are confused by his employment and income history. While a number of the homesteading and sustainability blogs I read advocate the single income household, there seems to be the understanding that a husband should financially support his wife. Men, after all, can enter the lucrative and homestead-friendly careers of construction and carpentry, mechanics and the military, with far greater ease than most women. In the meantime, ladies can do the tough and very underpaid work of childbearing and housekeeping.

The fact that Darling and I don't have children and share the housekeeping duties with three men and four women only muddles the matter. The fact that I like to work a whole lot, and Darling has very strict preferences when it comes to earning money, gives a false impression of the support systems in this marriage. If Darling isn't out earning a living, or at least changing diapers, what the heck is he doing?

He's actually worked for the majority of our marriage, earning money building websites and doing tech support, landscaping, canvassing for environmental causes, and working kitchens. I'm definitely the breadwinner, however, and Darling becomes very dissatisfied very quickly with paid employment. Because I'm able to support us - and strongly believe in the merits of a single-income household - Darling spends most of his time pursuing unpaid endeavors.

He's an excellent house keeper, much better than myself at caring for and repairing clothing. He darns socks and mends sheets I'd just as soon toss in the trashcan. He's an excellent cook and does most of our personal housekeeping, such as cleaning our bathroom and making the bed.

He takes a great deal of responsibility within our housing cooperative. His current favorite project is re-wiring the house with an electrician friend of his from college. The co-op buildings were constructed in the thirties, and aside for some piecemeal work done here and there, not much has been updated. We're a little tired of living in a fire hazard, so the house has been collecting quotes from electricians for years. Thanks to Darling and his friend, we're finally getting the work done at half the cost of the lowest estimate.

If rewiring the house wasn't enough, Darling is also in the middle of re-engineering our legal standing as a corporation. The first year he was president of the board the co-op had to focus on damage control: our bylaws were in shambles and the only thing that was keeping the organization from liquidating was the worrisome fact that there would be hundreds of thousands of dollars dispensed, according to Texas Business Organization Code, among the previous five years of residents of the house. Even the three members of the house who would qualify for a large share of that money were horrified at the thought, and the founders of the co-op were reasonably suspicious of this legal ramification which was very much not what they had in mind when creating the company. Every action residents of the house took was under intense scrutiny, critique, and suspicion. Many people were afraid to hire a lawyer to clear up the misunderstandings and confusions, certain that any legal action would immediately escalate into lawsuits.

Instead, Darling and the rest of the board took firm and gentle action and spent countless hours sorting through a legal mess fifteen years in the making. A year later the house was able to hire a lawyer with the founders' blessing (more or less), and Darling was re-elected president of the board that is only months away from totally resolving dozens of issues that brought a thirty-year-old cooperative to the brink of a heartbreaking demise. This. was. not. easy. He spends hours a week communicating with the lawyer, digging through records, fine-tuning and amending paperwork, and trying to explain to everyone what's going on and why.

On top of being president of the board, legal liaison, and electrician's apprentice, Darling has also been volunteering two or three days a week with a non-profit company providing assistance to Austin's large population of people who are mentally ill, homeless, HIV positive, or all three. Darling has always experienced intense compassion for those with mental illness and is very happy being involved with that community again. Two days a week he offers phone support in a nearby office, and on Thursdays or Fridays he is on call for garden assistance. His hope is to eventually be put on the payroll.

I, on the other hand, work. I wait tables for South Austin's hippie elite, serving coffee to men and women who have nothing to do in the middle of a Monday afternoon than surf facebook and sip espresso. No doubt these men and women have decent jobs, no doubt they have earned their double soy lattes, but I doubt very many of them have devoted themselves to the good of Austin as my Darling has.

If Darling worked we would be debt free much sooner. We could afford property faster, adopt a child more easily. Instead, I support him and his endeavors. I encourage him to follow his heart, and he does the same for me. He has made me the center of his world, and works very hard to keep it as pleasant a world as possible.

I do not mind if Darling never gets a job. I want him at home and in the community. I want him developing skills and relationships that are outside the sphere of steady wages and income. I want to follow his example and learn to find worth beyond my paycheck, to embrace days that lack structure and authority, to give without taking. That's what my Darling does for a living.

I refuse to call this post, "A Sticky Situation"

Our house has a rodent problem. For a long time it was a rodent "issue:" it was occasionally heard scratching around in the pantry walls, witnessed once or twice racing from between the kitchen and pantry, but basically keeping to itself. We set snap traps and a live trap every once in a while, caught one, and set it free by the creek.

Realizing what pansies we were, the mouse returned with friends. Suddenly brazen, despite the cat we started letting into the house, the mice started chewing through cardboard containers of food previously left alone. We had been advised by an exterminator to stuff the many holes in the wall with steel wool and cover them with metal plates, but we started finding bits of chewed up steel wool about the pantry! Bits of insulation, too. They ventured into other rooms, and the last straw was when teeny holes started showing up in our clothing.

I was the one to suggest sticky traps, and then went so far as to buy them and give them to the house as a gift. Despite bordering on veganism, I have no problem killing an animal that annoys me and is risking the health of my friends and family. Killing an animal for food or sport? Barbaric. Killing an animal eating my food? Perfectly reasonable.

I put the traps out last week and waited for the dark day we'd catch one and have to put it out of its misery. Days passed without incident. Fast forward to yesterday at six a.m. I dragged myself out of bed and to the dresser to discover that the clean clothes were still in the dryer. Putting on mismatched socks and my glasses, I groggily stumbled down the stairs and into the pantry. As has become my habit, I flipped on the light with an eye towards the traps. Crossing the room, I could see that one of the traps had been moved.

Weird. Someone mentioned hearing something in the attic, did they...

At that point, I became aware of two things: the first was a consistent, quiet, shrill shrieking noise. The second was that something was on my foot.

IT was on my FOOT. The mouse was on my FOOT. It was GLUED TO MY FOOT. The mouse was on a glue trap, and my foot was on a glue trap, and we were both screaming bloody murder. I kicked and screamed, and screamed, and screamed some more. I would still be screaming if I hadn't narrowly decided to wear mismatched socks for that two minute trek downstairs, if that glue trap were still attached to the ball of my foot. Instead my sock, the trap, and the mouse suddenly flew across the room and into the wall, and I raced upstairs to crawl back into bed with Darling and tell him to get up, get our laundry, make coffee, and make the mouse disappear so I could regain my sanity in order to catch the train up to north Austin for babysitting.

The moral of the story? Always wear socks. And if you put a glue trap in your home, don't expect karma to go easy on you.

Sweet Dreams

When Darling and I moved into the co-op, we had to choose between our bed and our futon. The bed originally belonged to my brother. Now, I can't be sure, but Ob probably didn't buy that mattress new. In the past few years I have seen, to my great surprise, my brother open a bank account, purchase a house, lease a car, and buy some sort of fancy phone. Yet I still can't imagine him, five or six years younger, shuffling thoughtfully through mattressmart comparing prices. No, Ob did not buy that mattress new and there is a very good chance that neither did whomever he got it from. It was probably passed through several generations of stoners and slackers, heck, my parents probably owned it in the seventies.

The futon, on the other hand, was purchased new from Ikea in 2007. As it is the only piece of furniture we have ever paid for, Darling and I decided to hold onto it. The bed went to my Mom's house, where all good furniture goes to die.

The futon was comfortable enough and we spent many happy nights on it. For a very long time the only downside to the futon was Darling's incredibly frustrating habit of WALKING on it. I threw about seven hissy fits about this, but even after he broke a slat in the bed he couldn't be bothered to not STEP on the freaking bed.

The broken slat drove me crazy and couldn't be easily mended. I mean, someone could have easily mended it, but not me. Being from Ikea, the futon didn't exactly lend itself to repair, especially by a frustrated blind woman in the dark right before bed, which was the only state I ever really thought about the dumb thing.

Eventually, the house decided to replace one of the futons in our den with a hideous couch. Darling and I happily volunteered to take in the outcast. Bye bye, broken futon! Hello "new", raised futon!

Not until it was too late did I realize that this futon was the most uncomfortable futon in the world. It feels like a dozen broken slats held together by a much larger broken slat going down the middle. It's like sleeping on the roof of a house. I finally told Darling that we had to get a new bed, even though I don't know how we could ever afford one.

A couple of nights ago, we had a serendipitous offer: one a housemate offered us a couple of pillows she had bought and never used. Her explanation? She has too many pillows. How does that even happen?

Granted, many of you are out there thinking "jeezuz, Tread, people buy this stuff." I have never bought a pillow ever. When there were no pillows to be had, I used my arm. There was a brief period of my life when I was happy to have a carpeted floor to crash on. Sob stories aside, I just never got into the habit of buying pillows, towels, or socks. Darling is no better. Yet somehow we inexplicably own several towels, pairs of socks, and now two really comfortable pillows. Weird.

I was consoled by the new pillows for a few days, then another housemate announced last night that he is giving us his bed. Okay, I'll admit this wasn't completely serendipitous. He's moving home to India and has been talking about selling his stuff for ages, and I had asked a fairly pointed question about his bed last week. But I didn't know until he showed it to me last night that it's a really, really nice set. And, it is practically new, by our standards, having been owned by only one person before us. We'll have it by Christmas :)

I definitely have a lot of blessings to count this week.

Financial Freedom vs. Material Comfort

Yesterday I was on a walk with my brother and an old friend. We passed a cute, slightly dilapidated house in north Austin which is for sale, and he suggested I buy it. For the briefest of moments I wanted to explain to him how I feel about the banking industry, mortgages, the dangers of being hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt. Instead I pointed out the many reasons Darling and I wouldn't qualify for a mortgage: Darling has no credit, mine isn't awesome, neither of us have very regular work histories, or even much income. It was idle conversation, of course, he was just trying to plant the tricky seed of desire so my husband and I will settle down and be normal. But it got me thinking about my communication tactics instead.

There are a lot of reasons Darling and I live the lifestyle we do, and it's not to get rich. It's not that we don't want to be rich, per se, but other priorities win out. And these are priorities that may not make a lot of sense to most people. I envision a lifestyle not of material comfort but of financial freedom, and a lot of people confuse the two. Few people would argue that riding bikes is an excellent way of saving cash to buy a car without a loan. Which is all fine and dandy, but misses the point that riding a bike produces financial freedom - freedom from buying gas and insurance, registering licenses, making expensive repairs. The act of buying a car trades financial freedom for material comfort. It is ultimately a step backwards.

So would taking out a mortgage on a cute-but-dilapidated house and moving out of our co-op, even if payments were cheaper than our rent. As cooperative members, we legally own our share of the house. We're in the best part of town, near my workplace, and surrounded by supportive friends. We have a degree of financial stability and freedom that a mortgage could never offer. Why would I trade that for more space in my name?

Ultimately, credit is the big bad. But it's not the only flaw of a capitalist system. Abstaining from credit is like bandaging a bad wound: The bleeding may have stopped, but healing has yet to come. We haven't healed until we can survive with as little financial dabbling as possible. We won't thrive as a culture until we cultivate sustainable individual lifestyles. Which does not mean, as the telly would like us to think, buying "green." It means buying almost nothing, it means growing, crafting, recycling, making, and bartering. That's pretty hardcore, and obviously such actions on a national scale would result in economic collapse. But so far as I can see, such a collapse is inevitable, and it is in my favor to be an early adapter.

Plumbing Fun

The past few weeks the house's filtered water faucet has been leaking. We went through the usual fix-it techniques: jiggling, whining, bringing out a handful of random tools and starting at it dejectedly. A few times we would unscrew this or twist that in the hopes of an easy solution, which caused the faucet to leak faster.

In the meantime, we kept a cup (which became a tall glass, then a pitcher, then a larger jar) under the faucet to catch as much water as possible. The smart thing would be to turn off the water at the source unless we needed it, but I couldn't convince the other ten folks who use the sink to take that option seriously.

In the past, I fixed plumbing problems with the aid of the Interweb. No such luck this time around. No one knew the brand of the three-year-old faucet, which was purchased online, so I couldn't go straight to the manufacturer's website. What's more, I didn't know the proper lingo to describe exactly what I needed. I found how to fix a leaky faucet, then a variety of single-handled leaky faucets, but none of them looked like the one we had. The obvious solution was to find the malfunctioning washer (I was told, over and over again), but I couldn't figure out how to get to said washer.

Today a housemate and I just took the whole faucet to Breed & Co., where a gruff old man used proper tools to completely disassemble the casing and remove the part that needed replacing. They didn't have the piece what we needed, so he sent us to Crump Plumbing Supply.

Crump told us what it is we had (a butler faucet), and informed us that they didn't have the replacement piece we needed. But for $19 they sold us a new faucet, which promises to be easier to repair and find parts for.

Installing the faucet was fast and easy, and for $20 and driving time our problem was solved. Considering I wanted to hire a plumber to do what seemed like a technical project, I'm pretty proud of our DIY.

Co-op Life

Look at me! Answering a question in a timely manner. See what sleep can do for a Softly?

Lizzie asked me to describe life of the co-op in detail. I'll start by saying that all cooperative housing situations are different. There are dozens in Austin, including ICC student housing, unofficial family-style rental arrangements, and even sprawling, permanent campsites. There is probably something for everyone.

Sunflower is a fairly average co-op. We own two large lots in a very trendy area; one lot holds the two houses, the other lot has our large shed and garden, which slopes down into a shady "meadow." The back house has five bedrooms and two bathrooms. The front house has a den, pantry with laundry facilities, office, two bathrooms, and three bedrooms. Darling and I have the most space, basically the entire second story of the front house. This is the largest bedroom with a walk in closet, our "own" bathroom, and a closet located on the landing. Darling converted the closet to be a small office when we first moved in.

There are 9 permanent residents. Included in our ranks are a professional musician and father, a massage therapist who has lived at the house for ten years, a recent college graduate, an Irish environmental consultant, an Indian engineer, an underemployed ex-programmer, and a professional community organizer. The average age is probably in the mid 30's.

We pay a monthly room and variable rent, which is determined every year when we build our budget. The house budget includes everything from groceries and utility bills to maintenance and accountant fees. It's actually fairly massive, considering we collectively pay for our large and productive garden, appliances, and emergencies (such as when our water heater died last year). The room rent is more or less permanent, and the same for every room. The variable changes with our budget, and is paid per person per day. So Darling and I each pay a variable, and when someone is out of town for a few days they are not required to pay a variable for that time. Guests staying for more than a few days (often sleeping on the futon in our den) are expected to pay a fraction of the variable.

As well as rent, everyone is expected to pitch in a certain amount of time to do chores and housework. Every chore earns a "point," which is measured in 15 minute intervals. Grocery shopping for the house usually takes a couple of hours, therefore earning about 8 points. Taking out the compost, watering the garden, sharing a meal, anything done for the greater good earns points. We are required to earn 30 per week, some people earn far more, others fewer. We supplement the point system with a chore wheel: the key things that must be done every week (cleaning out the fridge, sweeping and mopping, dusting, etc.) are accomplished on a rotating basis. There is no immediate consequence to not doing one's chore or gaining points, but when someone is lazy, of course, conflict arises.

We have a meeting every week which includes a (rotating) facilitator and note taker. The agenda hangs in the kitchen where anyone can add anything to it at any point. As no one likes never-ending meetings, we're pretty good at self-regulating how much to mark down during the week. Some items come up over and over again, usually scribbled on the agenda at 2 a.m. "DISHES!!!" Other items on the agenda might be emergency maintenance issues, a potential party, a visiting guest, or a heads up on upcoming board meetings. When a single person is responsible for, say, not keeping up with points, it is usually brought up first in a general way during the meeting, "We all need to be pitching in."

The meeting is followed by a round of "personal space," during which everyone shares their experiences and feelings of the week. This is by far the most profound part of the meeting, and more than once we discover that someone who hasn't been involved has been under a lot of pressure at work, having her heart broken, or been quietly ill. We end the meeting with a group hug, which we jokingly end when it "gets awkward."

If and when conflict is not resolved with a group hug (and it happens often), individuals are welcome to request a 5-on-5. This is a respected, personal way of taking someone aside and letting them know how you feel in an official way. Basically, each person has five minutes to make his/her case without interruption, back and forth until they feel the manner is resolved. In the year I've lived here, that is all we've needed, but we have a budget to hire an arbitrator should the need arise.

This is a phenomenally different lifestyle than what Darling and I experienced as a renting couple (as a legal co-op, residents literally own the house and pooled assets). It has affected nearly every facet of our existence. And no, it's not always comfortable. There are conversations I'd rather not have: I don't want a doorbell, we have to hire a plumber before that leaky faucet gets worse, our money is spread too thin between too many accounts, and just wait till I catch whomever is hoarding the bowls... I really don't look forward to the inevitable day a house mate leaves and we must find a new one before our vacancy fund runs low. And when Darling and I have a tiff? It can be awkward, to say the least, acting out our couple drama with an unsuspecting audience.

But the rewards are endless.Our diet alone has improved dramatically. Before moving here, Darling and I could not devote as much money as we would have liked on nutritious, organic food. By pooling our money (to the tune of about $250 a week), our house is able to purchase a healthy variety of nuts, seeds, oils, fruits, veggies, grains, dried beans, and dairy. The house only purchases vegetarian food, by the way, and we are allowed to add anything (within reason) to the list. In fact, simply not having to shop every week has increased my free time dramatically.

I can focus that free time with other household activities, and am often found in the kitchen baking the house's bread and preparing yogurt. Darling makes breakfast almost every morning and helps deal with the house's financial and board responsibilities. For some reason my passion for gardening has waned, and it's nice to know someone is picking up the slack outdoors. Others wield hammers in the endless pursuit of keeping this old house standing. Being a homeowner is a group effort!

There is also something to be said for the strong support system we have access to. There is always someone willing to offer a ride, a shoulder to cry on, or an herbal remedy. Privacy is a non-issue.

Space can be an issue, and I don't mean for more stuff. Darling and I hope to expand our family someday soon, pretty much as soon as nature allows. In the event that a baby Softly doesn't bounce into our lives by the time we finish paying debt, Darling and I will save to adopt/foster. Incidentally, two or three babies have been born in this house since it was made a co-op. I figure babies don't need all that much space, but at some point we will need a nursery. Part of me fantasizes that we will rent two rooms of the co-op, which would still be affordable. But in reality, Darling and I love to travel, and it's very likely that we'll seek other living situations when he finishes college. At this point, I have no desire to leave.

Hope that answers your questions, Lizzie!

Cleaning

It's been a busy several days at the co-op. With the help of about a dozen volunteers we're completely re-landscaping our front yard. So far we've ripped up all the invasive, mosquito-friendly plants, leveled it with shovels and rakes, and built up several berms and small rock terraces (we live at the bottom of a hill, so erosion and rainwater loss is a big problem for us). The house has been supplying dinner for the volunteers, so I've been pleasantly busy in the kitchen tossing salads and blending dressings, whipping up cornbread and kneading wheat bread, simmering soups and so on.

In the meantime I've been trying to create a pleasant space in my room upstairs with Darling. Several weeks ago he painted the bedroom a really comforting coral color, replacing the revolting shade of yellow a previous tenant put up. I've enjoyed being in the room so much more ever since, so I'm trying to reach a constant level of tidiness that builds on that feeling. For the first time since our marriage I put up curtains (for real, not just sheets tacked over the window). I spent a full day clearing up and organizing earlier this week, and yesterday I gave the bathroom its first deep clean since we moved in a year ago. By the way, why didn't anyone tell me that gray stuff scrubs off the bathtub and leaves a shiny white surface?

Next week I start working regularly again, and a personal goal of mine is to hold off on other commitments until the habits of keeping a pleasant room - regular laundry, making the bed, washing windows, and so on - become simple daily habits.

Headway and Time Off

We're really making headway on the foundation! It's actually a little nervous-making, because we're reaching a point that we can start facing the Next Big Steps...in fact, we'll have to. There's only so much stone shoveling we can do at this point.

We put in foam board insulation and starting filling the trench the rest of the way with stone. We ordered four more yards of stone and we're debating renting a machine again to speed that up. After this we set up for the concrete pour, which is incredibly exciting and scary. Darling and I realized we had different plans for how that would happen, which resulted in an argument, which resulted in the decision that I'm the boss and we're going to do what I say. More or less.

The farm doesn't need me next week, so Darling and I decided to take some time off and enjoy Austin and get some work done. Hopefully I'll catch up on my blogs!

Viable Alternatives To Building

Col wonders "Is there a reason why you wouldn't just have her move in with you two, the three of you could find a place to share?"

That's such a good suggestion, Col. More families should think about how they can come together to overcome their difficulties, rather than seek financially devastating alternatives (nursing homes, building a house...) .Darling and I believe in large, multi-generational family homes. At one point we lived with at his sister's house, which also housed her husband, their two children, her husband's brother and his son, and my mother-in-law. So a total 6 adults, one a senior citizen, and three children. I think that is the most financially and socially productive manner in which families can live.

I would be quite pleased if any of my family wanted to share housing. Some readers might remember that, before moving to a co-op, Darling and I rented two-bedroom homes so that my family could stay with us, which my sister and Dad both took advantage of for short periods.

My Mom does not enjoy the social or financial benefits of group living that Darling and I long for, family or otherwise. She forced each of her own children "out of the nest" by the age of fifteen and has lived alone for a very long time, refusing invitations to move to Austin and often asking not to be visited herself. The Lost Goat is right, if Mom did want to move in with us I can't imagine coping with her mental illness on a long term basis. I suspect someday she will need personal, daily care, and when that time comes we'll adjust to that. But right now my Mom wants, and can manage, her independence, and I suspect it's in everyone's best interest to maintain that for as long as possible.

An anonymouse buddy asked why we don't get a cheap mobile home. That was actually our first plan. There are a number of reasons why not, primarily that the cheaper a mobile home is, the more expensive it is to maintain over a long term basis. They have almost no insulation, for example, which means higher electric bills. The most important reason why not, however, is that Darling and I wanted to build a house. Dumb reason, I know. If I knew three months ago what I know now, we might have taken that route. Or at least a cabin kit...Though I'm making this sound really negative. Lizzie is right about a steep learning curve. But we're having an amazing time and doing this really powerful thing that is changing who we are - Darling and I are growing as individuals, and our marriage is becoming something new and stronger. And it's making my Mom really happy to have us around so much, to help us help her. A cheap mobile home would have been so easy, and manageable, and wouldn't have ripped our lives to shreds, but I think building the house will be worth it.

Pics, Progress, and Pancakes

So I finally got around to publishing some pictures! It's nice looking back on our progress. The going seems slow, but I forget all the joyful little details along the way...By the way, y'all would notice this if I posted pictures more often, but I'm only recently realizing how often my hair changes. That blonde is like, so last month ago.

The Lost Goat gave me a digital camera a while ago, but we needed a new memory card which is now in the mail. In the meantime, I kind of enjoy disposables. There's something special about hard copies, and something precious about having exactly 30 clicks to a roll. No endless "oops, you blinked, let's try again."

Yesterday Darling used his circular saw for the first time cutting the drainage pipes to size and we just nearly finished with the first part of the rubble foundation. It's taken us about three cubic yards of river rock to fill it1/3 of the way, so we'll have them deliver the next six yards of stone next week, and we'll rent a big heavy machine to help us move it around.

In the meantime, it's good to be back at the co-op for the weekend. I don't know if I mentioned, but the week Darling stayed here and I went to Mom's, he painted the room a brick red color. I rearranged the furniture and the art on the walls and the room has a new, really comforting feel to it. This is the first place we've ever decorated and it really makes us feel at home. Next week we will be putting up curtains and such. Yay for nesting.

This morning I made pancakes. For the longest time I had my "own" recipe that just wasn't working very well for pancakes, but made a good waffle. Naturally, I just figured that pancakes are dumb and waffles are delicious rather than tweak my recipe. Finally I started looking up actual pancake recipes, and, with the help of Joy of Cooking, I've fallen back in love with this style of breakfast bread. We had those with watermelon, then Darling and I went upstairs and did yoga together for the first time in ages. I'm thinking of making egg drop soup for late lunch before Darling and I head to work this evening.

Pictures!

Here's my Mom on the site soon after we moved the fence to reclaim this land from the longhorn pasture. To the right of the image you have photographic evidence of very aggressive grapevine attempting to reclaim the land for itself.

Here's the site with boundaries before it was leveled. You can see the old tin shed, which we cleared last week to store tools and materials. Inside we found 24 old school canning jars and lids in unopened boxes.

Here is the truck bringing in soil to level the property on an ominously dark day. They were rained out less than an hour later.

But they left us a tractor to play on.

A week later, the clay still sat in the rain.

But the straw arrived!

It was unloaded by the time I got home from work. We left it in the carport for a week or so before storing it properly - a possibly fatal mistake.

Two days in my Mom's garden! Squash, potatoes, peppers, green beans, and more tomatoes than we could put away!

Changing Approach

I took a couple of weeks off both blogging and journaling in general. After my last post and a rather mean comment it invited, I wanted some time to think of how I am presenting myself and our projects, big and small.

Once upon a time I read blogs that told me how great alternative lifestyles can be. Most of the writers were established and more-or-less comfortable in their various situations, whether it was living a sustainable lifestyle in Houston or a rural homestead in Oregon. Very, very few of my online heroines were in the beginning stages of their journeys, many are enjoying the fruits of their labors.

I love those blogs and deeply appreciate the wealth of knowledge their authors have provided the world with. But something was missing in the content. We all know the sweet joy of fresh baked bread, the deep comfort of committed companionship, and the precious freedom of travel and transient living. But few authors expressed the negative side of alternative living. Those first rock-hard loaves of bread, the difficulties of minimum-wage living, the growing pains of early marriage...if those small agonies are mentioned in many blogs, it is with lighthearted humor.

I want my blog to be something that young adults can relate to on their personal journeys. It's not all sunshine and bran flakes. I try to present a balanced and fair view of my life. I chase challenges like a dog chasing cats, and sometimes I get scratched.

Most of the time, my life is absurdly rewarding. I live in a home full of friends, my family is supportive and loyal, my husband is my hero, my food is organic and plentiful. But because I'm fighting for more out of life, I share the downs as well as the ups.

I'm sorry if this in any way upsets or worries readers. You all know that life is hard and certainly don't need me to remind you! But I want you to also see that life is amazing, and what we can accomplish is astounding. I feel that by being honest about the lows, you can better understand the highs. I'll try to post more during the week so you can get a better feel for what's going on. I'll answer Lizzie's questions about financing and my Mom. The reason I haven't yet is because Darling and I have been playing this by ear - we honestly didn't know how we were going to pay for the house a month ago, and we are still working out detail after detail. Our situation changes daily, making it hard to make honest posts about specific issues.

...Anyway, last week we hired a mini-escavator and finished digging the trenches and started the rubble trench foundation. This week we put in the french drain! Hope to get ya'll an update on that, and much more, in the next couple of days.

Week Off

We were planning on heading back to my Mom's house on Wednesday, but Tuesday night I was hit with a wave of nausea which was soon joined by an intense headache. Both accompanied me through the night, then the next morning...I ended up sleeping until seven in the evening, waking up only to call my Mom and boss to let them know I couldn't possibly make a two hour drive.

The headache remained until the next afternoon, at which point I suddenly felt great. I accepted a gig working for The Sierra Club, which earned me about $20. Darling called his workplace and arranged to work tonight and tomorrow. So we'll have been a little productive on our week "off."

The good news is that the land is leveled! We'll head back to Mom's on Monday and start digging the trenches for the footing Tuesday morning - I intend to race the sun. We're not sure if we'll be able to dig quickly/well enough to justify not paying someone with a machine to do the work for us, but I don't think it will take more than a week of hard labor, and in the meantime we can talk to plumbers.

Building Mom's House 6-7 to 6-13

6-7
Dom and I hit the road during the house meeting. We didn't feel great about that, but we really wanted to be back at Mom's and alert at 8 a.m. when the Mr. D arrived with a bulldozer. We dropped off some of Darling's schoolwork on the way out of town. Arrived just before midnight.

6-8
Darling and I just about had a mutual nervous breakdown when Mr. D - our fourth contractor hired for this job - was twenty minutes late. But not only did he arrive, but he had his father, brother, and nephew with him to help with the work. The brought in two truckloads of clay and the dozer to do the work.

Then it started to rain. Darling and I panicked a little - the bales were barely dry from the last downpour. We went to pick up a few more tarps. When we came back, the workers were heading out. They didn't mind the rain, but the thunder and lightning indicated a safety hazard. The D family said they'd be back when things dried out.

I picked tomatoes in the rain, started a huge pot of pasta sauce, and watched Season 1 of Lost with Mom and Darling.

6-9
Still raining. No D Family. Went out and picked more toms in the mud to add to the sauce. We watched the rest of Season 1 of Lost while the sauce simmered. My boss from the farm called and said not to bother coming in the next day. More than 5 inches of rain in 12 hours.

6-10
Rained again most of the day. Darling and I went to the library so he could catch up with homework. We canned the pasta sauce and had some extra with spaghetti for dinner. Felt like we'd wasted the week.

6-11
Worked on the farm. The flooding totally trashed the place. After working 6 hours came home to see that Darling and moved about 150 straw bales into the sun to dry, helped him move the other 150. Might suffer some casualties. Mr. D called to say he'd probably be able to finish the job Monday while we're not here. So tired after work, bone tired. Working so hard and not seeming to get anywhere.

6-12
Tarped up the dry bales as well as we possibly could. After tornado watches and flooding the past week, what can we expect? Headed back to Austin. Intended to go upstairs and go to sleep, to blog, to relax, but Darling wanted pizza. I made a spelt crust from scratch and picked a few pounds of tomatoes, basil, garlic chives, oregano, thyme, and sage to make a sauce. Drew a small crowd of housemates as the smells filled the air (and heated the kitchen into the triple digits). Ended up serving a sit down meal to seven of us. Exhausting after a hard week and a long drive, but incredibly fulfilling. So good to be home.

6-13
Worked at the cafe this morning waiting tables while Darling worked in the kitchen. Hung out with friends afterward. We'll be in town until Tuesday or Wednesday - Darling has an exam. Hope the leveling does well without us.