Smoothie Summer

This time last year we were letting the light in, and getting ready for many days of interior demo. We were closing in on one year of having owned the property, and, so we thought, closing in on the design of our new home. Last summer was full of days spent running and playing at the property, including hosting Miles' 8th birthday treasure hunt party. We consumed more than our fair share of hotdogs, roasted corn, and s'mores over days that seemed to last forever. This summer has been a bit different.

We changed architects a few months back, so while we are farther along than we have been with the design, we are still a few weeks away from submitting for a permit. We've completed all the interior demo we can, and have been devising all the different ways we want to take down the house. We could, actually, begin to take down the house . . . and as I type this I'm thinking that maybe that's what we'll do this month, because why not? But the reality is that aside from cutting the grass and spending some of our warm summer days fooling around as I described in this previous post, we've just not done much physically at Lazy Fox. Most of our energy has been spent on the new design and ironing out the last details.

So, with this apparent lack of things about which to post, I bring you something completely different: Chocolate Banana Smoothies Two Ways! *crickets* Because, let's be honest, who doesn't love a good smoothie? *more crickets* Well, WE love smoothies, so this post is decidedly about a cool, refreshing summer time treat that we WOULD be drinking at Lazy Fox if we were living there. Does it count that we drink these before and after we go there? And turn them into popsicles sometimes? I think it does.

We consume a fair number of smoothies around here, the house favorite being chocolate banana. You may know that I can't tolerate cow's milk, so none of my smoothies use it. Having a Vitamix makes that really OK, because everything turns out creamy delicious anyway, even when you add veggies. And I do.

Chocolate Banana Originál

This is the old stand by that my kids love. I've even convinced other kids to like it, too. I love pulling one over on other people's kids like that. Maybe I'll be the hippie mom with only slightly weird food.

Place in a blender (I do highly recommend a Vitamix): 1-2 bananas, a handful of leafy greens (I use swiss chard a lot and I probably do more than a handful), about a tablespoon of almond butter, 1-2 tablespoons of raw cocoa powder, 4 pitted dates, 1+ tablespoon of chia seeds, dash of cinnamon, dash of ground cardamom. Add water, about an inch or so, and 5 or 6 ice cubes. Blend on high until creamy delicious. You can also omit the ice cubes if you use frozen bananas.

Chocolate Banana alá Rootz

Last time we were in Steamboat, we stopped into a cute little organic café named Rootz. I asked how they sweetened their chocolate banana smoothie, and learned they use only three ingredients: coconut milk, banana, and raw cocoa powder. The result was wonderful, not coconutty, and I decided this would be the second way to make chocolate banana smoothies at home.

Combine in blender until smooth and lovely: 2 frozen bananas, 2 tablespoons raw cocoa powder, and maybe 1/4 cup CANNED coconut milk. Do not use the coconut milk from the carton- that stuff is full of additives and just not the same beast in flavor or texture as that crack-in-a-can from Thai Kitchen. You may need to play around with the amount of cocoa powder and coconut milk, as I tend to eyeball these and then adjust based on the loud, angry reactions from my kids.

So there you have it. No real updates on Lazy Fox, but chocolate banana smoothies not one, but TWO ways! Life is miraculous.

Getting into the Ground

While we finish up the design phase of our architectural journey and await the move into construction documents (which means we can FINALLY get our construction loan!!), John and I have been feeling antsy. With the interior demo being taken just about as far as we can take it, we waffle back and forth between wanting to get our hands into the soil to start our garden and wanting to wait until the impending days of Lazy Fox as a construction site will be over. Most of the time this translates into cutting grass on the tractor, using the weed whacker, straightening the contents of Ye Olde Shoppe, or just standing around drinking beer and Mike's Hard while we dream about the future . . . and maybe a few other things.

Father's Day Mayhem

A Typical Tuesday

 
Last fall we stumbled upon an amazing end of the season sale at Gulley's Greenhouse. We scored fruit and other trees, shrubs, and a few other plants for ridiculously low prices (also lots of free plants we donated to Mountain Sage Community School, where I sit on the board of directors). Hardly ones to pass up a good deal, we found ourselves establishing our fledgling orchard in the southeast corner of the property. It was, perhaps, a bit premature to start the orchard, but the time felt right and so we went with it. I'm happy to say that all the trees weathered the winter just fine and are doing well as the first days of summer have come to pass.

This has given us some hope, I think. I simply cannot fathom putting down literal garden roots when my own family roots are still planted somewhere else. This has made it difficult to move toward Lazy Fox the farm; I can be one hell of a road block when I want to. But planting the trees felt so good, and their tender green leaves on slender bending limbs remind me to be flexible. Growth takes time, and moving slowly, as we need to, is the name of the game.

So last weekend when I came across free raspberry plants, it just felt right to jump at planting something again. It was a dig-your-own situation. We took the kids and the dogs, and headed to a 1960's neighborhood just south of Harmony we never even knew existed. The 90 year old woman who owned the plants told us her gardening days were over. Instead of having her son simply yank and toss the raspberry plants, she waited for people willing to dig and use them. When we showed up, shovels in hand and trailer on tow, we fit the bill. We scored about 75-100 plants and lovingly brought them back to Lazy Fox.

Our initial plan had been to keep the larger plants and line the fence, keeping the dogs from running right up to it when other dogs walk by. The other plants we'd sell for $1 each. After some discussion, we realized it'd serve us better to have an actual patch where we can access the plants from all sides. We scouted out an area that felt right, the east side of what will be the garden, and got to work.

We quickly learned what we had suspected all along: the soon to be garden is rock hard, with maybe 2 inches of "top soil." Digging up the raspberry patch by hand was out. Barter to the rescue! We traded our friends over at Cresset Farm the raspberry plants we were going to sell for use of their handheld rototiller; win win!

After weed whacking, watering, rototilling, amending the soil, planting, and dodging a classic Colorado June hailstorm, we had all the plants in the ground. We're not sure how many will take, and we have plans to start amending the rest of the soil now for the garden next summer. But it felt so good to actually DO something on the property. Here's to more DOING!

This picture is so large it won't center, but here, size matters. Ella pre-watering the spot for the raspberry patch.

Chemistry

This post is about the chemistry we have with others, and the choices we face when that chemistry just doesn't work despite our best efforts to alter the formula, time and again. (I'm not referring to my marriage, by the way. While our chemistry does equate to total and utter chaos, I'm in love with it on a different level- a cosmic level. The same cannot be said for hiring professionals in the world of building . . . although maybe it should.)

Building the house at Lazy Fox is not our first rodeo. In 2008 we remodeled our home in Golden, CO. What started out as adding a second story without touching the existing interior morphed into gutting everything that had already been; we built a new house that used the shell of the little bungalow we originally bought. We learned so many things, primarily:

1. My husband's attention to detail, while overwhelming at times, is grounded in a very deep and expansive knowledge base. When he notices something and feels compelled to say something, I had better listen. There's an issue;
2. Hiring people based heavily on your personal chemistry is NOT a wise choice. More on that later;
3. You cannot be clear enough about expectations;
4. If your internal alarm is going off, pay attention;
5. When people feel stressed out, they do funny things;
6. Never stop walking . . . no wait, that was our rule from a trip to Amsterdam in 2004. That's a post for another blog entirely.
7. It's absolutely OK, and in fact our job, to speak up about what we want. This may sound obvious, but it's weird how when you are surrounded by "professionals," there is a tendency (for me, anyway) to default to their knowledge and opinion. Bad idea! It's my house for freak's sake. As my kids would say:

With such a lengthy, insightful list, it might be reasonable to assume we would be well suited to face the project at Lazy Fox. And we are. And we've already had to relearn some of these lessons just during the design phase. In our defense, this design phase has now surpassed 18 months in length, but really there's no defense here. We simply didn't remember all the previous lessons learned. I suppose that makes one more lesson learned:
      8. write down your lessons learned (perhaps in a very public place) so that you can refer to them time and again.

But I digress.

While there are many reasons that at this stage of the game we still have no permitted drawings, the single shiny star is chemistry. Back in 2008 when we were working on the Vernon Drive house, we hired our GC based on an alignment of values, and a really good personal chemistry. Some months later we found ourselves faced with someone completely different. Matters of money had rendered him unable to communicate, and he walked off the job. He claimed he was going bankrupt, but we never got any notices about it, and as far as I know, his company is still up and running. We were as upfront and forthright with him as possible, yet we stopped short of firing him. In retrospect, there were very clear warning signs along the way, yet we chose to ignore them and eventually, disaster struck.

This time around I can say that while we still waited too long with matters of personal chemistry, we have been proactive in changing course even when it feels horribly heavy to do so. Most of this is related to matters of money- letting go of that was huge, and scary, and I'm so glad we did. No one is done any favors when out of steam relationships are pushed forward for the sake of completing a task. The process and product also suffer, changing from something creative to something burdonsome.

All of this is to say that we are (back) on track with Lazy Fox and have a renewed sense of conviction. I'm sure the beautiful spring time weather has helped. We are awakening again to the possibilities that are Lazy Fox.

Cause nothing says "awaken to spring!" like

dogs frolicking in the purple twilight

of a family farm-to-be.

(Part 2) To Platt or Not to Platt . . .

Cliff hanger! So, when I left you last, we had decided NOT to platt Lazy Fox. This resulted in a new home design that incorporated the existing house, as tearing it down was the trigger for platting. The new home design is one we liked more than the other one. And so, it would seem, that all is right with Lazy Fox. HAHA! That's hilarious. Read on, my friends.

In October of 2013 we brought two different builders out to Lazy Fox to give us an idea of cost. What they both gave us was something different altogether: the perspective that the additional money we'd spend saving the house would easily outweigh the cost of platting (especially sweet given that we paid additional in architectural fees when we decided not to platt). Taking this into consideration, along side the fact that all new construction would be easier on a number of levels, we decided to revisit the platting process. In November we went to a Conceptual Design Review, where the various city departments gave us a list of what we'd need to do should we platt. The 6 pages of notes left us feeling overwhelmed. We took a break and went on vacation . . . or rather, everyone got sick except me so we cancelled our travel plans and had a "staycation" (where a bottle of wine and I cooked a full Thanksgiving dinner alone together- it was awesome).

There may have actually been more than one bottle of wine involved.

December was spent discussing, worrying, crying, feeling overwhelmed. We took a break and went on vacation- for reals this time. In January we decided to platt the property, which would of course mean more changes to the architectural plan. Once we got word of the fees associated with that, we felt platting and allowing all new construction outweighed the potential can 'o worms the existing house could be. And then something awesome happened, if you count feeling so over it, so the underdog, so out of your league that you don't know what to do, as awesome.

The last week in February we got word from a local engineering firm that all of the studies and work required on their end for the platt would total . . . wait for it . . . $30,000! After the smelling salts were issued, I got on the phone. It was starting to feel like some fundamental miscommunication was happening. We are not developers! We are a family of four humans and two dogs, and we just want to build a home that honors the super cool property we happened upon. We are not "redeveloping" the land, as the triggers in the code would suggest. Apparently the 5 or 6 thousand we would have spent on platting were the least of our worries; "redevelopment" and the issuing of a new certificate of occupancy are what we wanted to avoid.

In a flurry of meetings with city representatives from zoning, building, and storm water, we learned that:

• the code is insane unless you are a developer;
• not many city employees support enforcing the code if they feel it's getting in the way of earnest development;
• there's always a work around, especially if you're persistent.

The fall out: we do NOT have to platt or get a new certificate of occupancy!! This is especially good news for us as the budget gets tighter and the time frame gets longer. All we have to do is keep the original 800 sq foot, 100 year old, concrete foundation and the city will consider it an addition and a remodel. WHEW!

Three cheers for persistence, my friends. Three cheers.

(Part 1) To Platt or Not to Platt . . .

That is the question. Since buying this property in 2012 there has been a continual stream of twists and turns along the way to building our home. One of the biggest turns, I'd even venture to say a road block at times, was the news that our lot is not platted.

If you're like me, you may have heard of the term "platted," and just kind of glazed over it. In context it always made sense, but I never had to think too hard about it. But when you're on the phone with a senior zoning official to find out if you can live in a 5th wheel on your property during construction and he says, out of the blue, something like "just so you know, this lot isn't platted, and any new dwelling will trigger the platting process," you suddenly crave absolute clarity.

As it turns out, Lazy Fox is a "metes and bounds" property (to learn more about this titillating topic, click here). Essentially, this means that the property description is a relic from another time; most lots in town are platted, but when our property was annexed into the city from the county, probably in the 1980's, it was never indoctrinated with this city process. To get a property platted, an engineering firm conducts a survey and some simple reports, and then it goes before city council. Whatever the city deems as necessary improvements to the lot need to be done, and the property is given its official name like "Mizia sub-division yadda yadda yadda."

Isn't this stuff awesome! This is a topographical survey of the house at Lazy Fox. Yeah, I'm hurting for photos this post.

Having worked in the government, albeit on a volunteer basis, my experience has been that taking things before city council can take forreeevvveerrrrrr. And a day. We've already been at the process way longer than we had hoped, so the prospect of adding weeks or months to our timeline is unbearable. Add to that the costs for the engineering work and any improvements we'd need, and it starts to feel like "the man" blocking our way is more of a Goliath.

When we first got the news of how deconstructing the house and building a new one would trigger platting, we had to stop with our original design of a new two story house. We changed course with our architect. In a cute little twist of irony, the additional architectural fees amounted to what platting the lot would have cost. But in all honesty, the new split level ranch design is far more exciting to me than our two story home ever was. While it hurts our wallet that we had to arrive at this new design in such a way, I am relieved and thrilled that we landed on a design that feels so much better. So the decision is not to platt, or so it was . . . stay tuned for Part 2, coming soon.

Bye Bye Creepy Basement!

So this house, while clearly full of potential and an amazing life's calling, has also scared the bejesus out of a few folks. I'm not going to name names here, but I'll just say that I've heard references to holding a sage ceremony more than once. 

Honestly though, when we first looked at the house, I never felt weirded out. I'm not going to claim to have a strong 6th sense, but I'm a pretty aware gal. The first several times we went through the house, it was boarded up. There was no electricity. It was late summer/early fall, and as Halloween came closer I thought how we could have had an award winning haunted house without doing a damn thing except open the door. And yet I really didn't get creeped out. Not until we opened up the house, and were able to experience the basement in full daylight.

It wasn't the whole basement that gave me goosebumps. It was just one room. I actually scoured my photos to find something that showed this room, but couldn't find one. That right there tells you how much I couldn't stand it. This room felt to me as though a slightly off kilter adult son had lived in it, pinning articles to the wood paneled walls and obsessing about who knows what. The energy was lonely and scary at the same time- a combo I'm not really interested in knowing more about. 

John stands in the non-room

But other than that room, the basement, even with its nasty weird "bathroom," didn't feel that bad to me. So when John set-up his ETesque shop down there to remove a small amount of asbestos and ready the space for the crew to remove the large stuff, it was with great joy that all the interior walls came down and the space opened up. Wood paneling: gone! Gross carpet: gone! Sears Super 75 : gone, along with lots of scrap metal from pipes and what not that we simply couldn't use. A guy stepped out of Mad Max and answered my ad on Craigslist. He paid us and took it all away for recycling.  Not that I'd want to build a summer cottage there or anything, but the space is no longer so

A room with a view

creepy that I can't be in it.

When the house is remodeled, we won't be using the original basement as our active space. We'll be adding a new basement underneath some of the new construction for our TV area. The original basement, which probably needs a name all of its own, will be a utility space only. 

This whole process has really been about respecting the past of this house as much as it's been about creating a future space for our family. Sad times clearly came with the good, and while I don't mean to dismiss the sad, I feel we need to elevate the good times this house has seen. And maybe hold a sage ceremony.  Or two.

One Year Later . . .

I've had a hard time setting time aside time to write. Yesterday I was contemplating that, and realized that I needed to side step my chronological approach and make an entry about what's happening now. So . . .

One year ago we closed on the purchase of Lazy Fox. One year ago we signed on to rent the TWC, thinking we'd be here 6, maybe 9, months. One year ago we were a month in to this sometimes-insane journey of regrowing our roots in Fort Collins. One year ago we thought we'd be tucked safely into our new farm house in a year's time. It's safe to say that a year ago, we had no idea WTF.

I'd be lying if I said the past 12 months weren't very hard. Packing the Mizias into less than 800 square feet, just by itself, without the added financial stress of designing and building a home, is enough chaos to cause a mild shift in the cosmic energy forces (and you thought that was solar flares!). I thought about including a picture that somehow captured said chaos, but decided that this little video is a pretty good glimpse at it.

 

But I'd also be lying if I didn't say that the light at the end of this long tunnel is growing brighter. And every single time, I mean every time, we set foot on to Lazy Fox, it all makes perfect sense. 

After a year of starts and stops with design, we are closing in on permit drawings. Of course, we've been saying we're "three weeks away from having permit drawings" for probably 8 weeks now, but hey, it's some kind of movement, right? Every start and stop has been for some good reason, obvious or not, and the result will soon be a design that's perfect for us. I've started meeting an awesome kitchen designer to make sure that we think through every detail of this hugely gigantic mega important space in our house. It's all coming together, on paper at least, and that is one good thing.

Another good thing: our time at the TWC has come to an end. Wait. What? "How can you be moving out if Lazy Fox still only exists in a pre-permit state on paper?" you ask. Well, we've decided to buy another house. Wait. What? "I'm so confused," you say. "Are you abandoning the project? It sounds like it's going well! why? WHY?" Woah. Chill out! It's still full steam ahead with Project Lazy Fox. We need something to drive us crazy for the next year. But we realized that after exploring the rental market, we wouldn't be able to move to another place with more room or a yard without paying at least what we are paying now. If, however, we buy a house, our mortgage payment will be less than rent, and we'll have an investment in town. Not bad, right? So by next month sometime, we will be the proud owners of a sweet 1950's ranch close to campus and old town. And you don't even know the best part: we get to have a kitchen table again! Words cannot do justice here. Kind of like a happy version of my reaction to this beauty:

So that's the scoop. Forward-moving-treading-water with our design, purchasing a second home, and an eye on that brightening light. (My apologies for any nightmares that picture may cause. I probably should have had a disclosure at the beginning about not reading this in front of your children or if you have a weak heart. What can I say? It's a learning year.)