My husband and I rented a 625 square foot cabin in the Chugach foothills for four years. It was snow globe, Alpenglow beautiful in winter, riddled with rainbows and wildlife in summer and full good times with amazing neighbors year round. A great place to have started my Alaskan adventures, however, it was time to purchase our own piece of the Northland. As fate would have it, I found our homestead a few weeks before our big trip back East and ended up closing on the house from vacation in New Jersey. It felt like a full circle to have evolved that way, and excitedly we made the long flight back to begin our new journey as homeowners. There was no rest for the travel weary. Within 24 hours of returning, we were knee deep in boxes, unloading a moving van. Within twelve hours after spending our first night in the house, an 18 lb book took a tumble off of a tall bookshelf onto my face. As blood christened my new home, the kid shouted with the astute observation of a future doctor, well Mommy, I guess you broke your nose. A scramble to find an urgent care, close to 30 miles away, in a new town commenced, and 72 hours after that, my husband moved on to work for month. The sum of all those numbers added up to equal “Crash Course in Home Ownership 101.”
I was left to greet the neighbors with a black eye and a laceration across my fat nose. Fantastic!
With moving chaos out of the way, lets make room for some real homeowner mayhem.
Early one morning, about a week after moving in, there was a distinct lack of heat in the house. The outdoor temp was five and the indoor temp was two, as in two frozen eyeballs. It was truly probably 50 something, but my eyes were seriously cold and the rest of me was wrapped in every piece of flannel I could quickly scavenge. Keith was at work and out of touch, so that left me alone to ferret out the issue. Nevermind I really didn’t have a good grasp on the workings of the radiant heat, I needed to solve the problem to prevent the kid from starving to death. She was crying that she could not eat because she was TOO COLD!
Thermostat was functioning, hot water flowing, water heater sounds active, but the huge wall of piping, valves and filters has my frozen eye twitching. Inflow, outflow, no go! I immediately know I am in over my iced eyeballs. I call the service number on the heater, which goes to voicemail. So I Google a company I find 20 miles away and again, voicemail! I suddenly realize it is Sunday. Of course it is! Why didn’t we get that cord of wood delivered yet? There are some really nice axes and saws hanging in the garage. While contemplating what to chop, the first heating company calls and we immediately set to work going through a checklist. The man was a patient saint, explaining every part of the heating unit, which stuck in my head for a whole five minutes and was gone. I relayed to him that radiant heat was all new to me, most of my experience coming from the grand old houses back East that still used oil and cast iron registers. A light bulb went on and he asked me to go over what routine I had with the thermostat. “Well, when we go to sleep, I turn it down and when we wake, I turn it up. Just like I did in New Jersey.” Bingo, problem solved! Call was over in no time and I was on my way to a warm house and eyeballs, albeit not quickly by any means. Turns out radiant heat is well, radiant. It warms the air space under the floor when hot water is forced through the pipes, then radiates up. This takes 12-48 hours once you adjust the temperature. It is NOT immediate. There was no more “instant warmth” unless I threw some logs onto a fire. The constant adjusting of the thermostat never allowed the unit to achieve the desired warmth, so it lost all of its radiance in the frigid night. “Hey, Honey, you know those six voice messages I left for you? Disregard, we have heat, the kid can eat again.”
After this escapade, I banished chaos and mayhem south for the winter.
The house was back on track, my nose healing, the kid eating, and the boxes finally unpacked. What to do but start exploring the neighborhood? Out of all the places we looked in Alaska, and we looked a long time, this one felt like home immediately. When I was born, my family lived on a farm and yes, there are still farms in NJ today. Gorgeous rolling bucolic scenery and lots of horses. I love that atmosphere and we luckily found a great house right in the middle of it all. My immediate neighbors have horses that hang their heads over the fence for treats, and upon exploring, so did several others on the street. Resident perks in our immediate area are, hearing roosters crowing and sheep baaing from my backyard, seeing goats rummaging about on lawns and watching tractors plow the fields. Its a vibrant community of friendly people, seasonal festivals, farms and farmers markets that sell larger than life produce grown under the midnight sun. Horses are ridden down my street as well as pull wagons and carts. Draft horses pulling wagons! You read that right. I am in my glory. My dream of owning a chicken coop and a horse just might be actualized here in this town one day. For now I enjoy the continuous equine parade, the occasional wagon ride and fresh eggs from neighbors.
My birthday was coming up in a few short weeks and although my husband wouldn’t be arriving home till a few days after, the new house and this wonderful environment was more than enough celebration for me.
One morning I woke up a little early for no apparent reason. The floor was warm from the heat working adequately, the kid was sleeping and the sky was dark and smattered with stars. I let the dog out in the backyard and started my day. It was probably a half hour before I remembered the she was still out on the deck and I went to retrieve her. There was just the faintest light in the sky as I opened the back door. Instead of two eyes pleading to be let in the house, there were four. I just about died. I couldn’t be certain, but I thought in that instant, that the dog and a moose had made friends . Then I got scared, let her in quickly and shut the door. What kind of German Shepherd makes friends with a wild thing and escorts it to the back door? I turned on the flood lights to illuminate the supposed moose, but instead found a large draft horse staring back at me from the edge of the deck, which is only 5 feet wide. It was very close, and seemingly pleading to come in. I grabbed some hay from the rabbit’s cage and went out to greet a friendly, easygoing, large draft mare.
No halter, no markings, nada. The kid is still asleep and with horse in tow, I venture out in the field to look for a breach in the fence. I thought there was no way that big work horse would have cleared it but, nothing! As the mare follows me back towards the house, a sudden thought hit me like a ton of bricks. SHE IS MY BIRTHDAY PRESENT! Keith bought me a HORSE! There was no other explanation. This horse didn’t jump my fence, there was no evidence. Other than the ridiculous notion that perhaps a rural teen prankster opened my gate and deposited a horse in the yard for shits and giggles, there was no logical explanation. The obvious answer was, my working husband enlisted a friend to deliver this awesome birthday gift while he was away. Happy dance, happy joy-joy, I go wake the kid up.
If you thought I was excited, you should have seen the kid ripping all the rabbit’s hay out of her cage to feed my new birthday present. As I try to leave a message for Keith, the sage three year old asks where the birthday ribbon was? Yeah, wouldn’t there be a bow or some kind of surprise card somewhere? I look around the yard for fallen evidence while leaving a second message. The sky brightens into full morning mode as I examine my new ride. Big, brown, gentle, easy to work with. I wonder how old she is and where we are going to board her as I receive a text back. My sneaky husband is playing coy like he has no clue what I am talking about. “You know the big present in the back yard, how did you do it?” Nothing, not biting. How long will he play the charade? I was too excited to deal with shenanigans. Just say, SURPRISE! I got you, Happy Birthday! The texts cease for a bit, (he was at work) and I go into the yard to hang out with my new friend. Suddenly I spot a truck driving very slowly around the block. A woman gets out and walks down my street scouting, searching for what? No, not THAT! The sneaking suspicion makes me break out in a nervous sweat. I open the front gate and walk out to the road. I am confronted with the worst question I have ever been asked, “Have you seen a big brown draft horse anywhere?”
For a very brief moment in time, my husband bought me the best gift ever and then a random woman rode away with it, right down the street and out of sight. The kid and I sat there staring sadly at our empty yard, once more devoid of equine presence. Luckily Birdie had been given a complimentary ride on “Mare” to thank us for the hospitality. I even relayed the story of how I suspected the horse was my birthday gift, which was met with some good chuckles. Mare was ridden back to her barn two streets over, then her rescuer came back to retrieve the truck. Surprisingly, the old horse jumped and cleared her fence and perhaps a few others, but definitely mine, deciding to run away from home, and have a grand old adventure while her owner was away on vacation. Smart thing! She knew how to have a good time while her parents were away.
After my present trotted away, I started joining every local farm, food and equine group on Facebook so I would be well aware next time there were horses at large , and were intent on showing up for breakfast. Little did I know the extent of the havoc that escaped animals subjected our area to. Rush hour had a whole new meaning, scrolling through the posts from exasperated owners trying to locate gaggles of geese, stray turkeys, horses, dogs, goats and mules, running about the neighborhood and making it out to the highway. Once someone posted a runaway blue satin buck (that would be a rabbit). These farm fugitives could get injured any number of ways, hit or even eaten. The escapades are definitely humorous to read, but only after the animal is retrieved and safely home.
So, I didn’t get my horse, but I was given a sweet ride for my Birthday. Big Blue Buddha lacks a mane and muzzle but she makes up for it with plenty personality and awesome accessories. White walls, a cool basket, bell and a cushy fat seat to relax and peddle the bike paths with, my ride and I are going places. My broken nose is healing fine, the black eye has faded and I am ready to hit the road. First tour would be around my new neighborhood to find out what Mare is up to.
