Getting Located

We've finally discovered the boundaries of where we live.

My wife, Chana, and I operate a B&B in Bayfield, WI on 24 acres. 
It went on the market in late June.  We have an accepted offer, whose
final requirement was to complete a survey to identify the east and
north boundaries.  The survey was done Dec. 19.  On the 20th we
walked the land, following stakes topped with pink surveyor's tape
to see exactly what we own.

In past walks around the land, we tried to estimate the north boundary
by following a buried strip of barbed wire that probably collapsed years ago.
On the 20th, we congratulated ourselves on our guesswork, because the
official survey and our path were surprisingly close together.

The gently falling snow also revealed a tiny everygreen tree that
Chana decided had a proper place in a Charley Brown cartoon.
And we discovered the intricate abandoned nest of a colony of bees
or hornets, which we'll save and use as an enhancement on the house.

The adventure also included a decision to move two benches from
where they'd been located for nearly 15 years.  Both had to be
carried--schlepped is the word-- over snow-covered uneven ground.

One is a Carolina bench, whose construction and use of decorative
wrought iron added weight and required that we each balance it on
one shoulder and, as much as possible, walk at exactly the same pace.

The other, a six-foot, home-made project, needed to be balanced on
its side on two large boards laid on a kid's plastic coasting sled.  We
had to pull it a couple hundred yards through fields of deep snow--
a challenge because the bench resisted our efforts to keep it centered
on the sled so the weight was evenly balanced.

It was a wonderful few hours.  We discovered the boundaries of our
land, re-located two benches near our firepit--in time to celebrate the
winter solstice--and found a new appreciation for Mother Nature.  

Ideas & Decisions

The Artesian House is for sale.

And we're in the process of renovating Chana's home in
nearby Washburn, with the goal of moving there after the
B&B sells.  The renovation will take 5-6 months.

As for the sale of the inn...over the past several weeks,
we've rejected 3 offers, most recently Oct. 12.

On the 12th, we expected to receive 1 or 2 offers--
recognizing that if either were accepted, the likely late fall/
early winter closing would require us to 1)  pack and store
the contents of the inn and 2)  find a place to live during
the renovation.  Cost estimates for both told us that
we were looking at significant dollars.

Chana had an idea.

Of course, she said, we need to monitor the renovation.
But let's step back from trying to sell the B&B right now.

Instead, let's stay in the inn during the renovation,
continue to welcome guests and save ourselves
some physical, emotional and financial strain.

Her idea led to a decision that makes good sense.

Thanks, Chana.

An announcement about "quiet season" changes at
the B&B is on our home page.  Please visit.

Hummers

Not the gas guzzlers most of us would rather not see on the road.

But the tiny feathered ones that amaze us with their agility,
speed, territorialism and mysterious ability to navigate back
and forth over the Gulf of Mexico and--as I understand it--
return to their previous food source at both ends of the trip.

I spent part of today laboring over a Sudoku and watching
the birds.  The birds won.

It was a feeding frenzy most of the time...2, 3, 4 even 5
fighting for a spot at the feeder.

Bird A lands and starts to drink (or do they sip?).  Bird
B wants a spot, but is chased away by A.  While they're
gone, Bird C settles in.  A returns and is challenged by C. 
Off they go to see who prevails, and D arrives.  And so
it goes.

There's still time left to enjoy them before they beef up,
respond to whatever tells them it's time, and head south.

All it takes is a feeder and a cup of sugar dissolved in
3 or 4 cups of boiling water. 

And you're a spectator.

2/29/2012

Every four years we get a bonus day on Feb. 29. It's called Leap Day.

This year it's aptly named. It represents a giant leap from three months of non-winter--December, January and all but one day of February--to the real thing.

As of noon on the 29th, it had been snowing steadily since midnight, and the weather folks said it would probably continue for the rest of the day.

The snow left our deck totally covered, and created nicely-rounded roofs on our bird feeders, making it hard for our feathered friends to access their food. So Chana, who is devoted to keeping the birds well fed, tiptoed out in her robe, cleared a path to the feeders and filled them. The birds were happy; the squirrels didn't get the message that they weren't welcome.

Our driveway is about 1,000 feet long, and the storm covered it with nearly 12 inches of beautiful--but heart attack-heavy--snow. No way to use the driveway, and I had no thought about anything resembling shoveling, but felt a short walk to the main road was called for.

It was more a trudge than a walk, but a perfect way to experience real winter.

The snow removal will come soon enough. For now, we'll relax and enjoy nature's Leap Day gift.

And it's obvious: March will come in like a lion.