Cob Jockey

Rhiannon's comment on my last post made me realize I need to revisit the whole "where are we going to live" thing now that the barn is purchased. Maybe the way we've worked through this will help somebody someday as they go through this on their own farm property.

Buying the farm ended up being a 2 1/2 year process from when we went under contract to when we closed. That was by design - I needed the time to get my house in town ready to sell and sold, and it was a complicated transaction in other ways too. Fortunately, the outgoing BO was in no hurry, which was great.

That gave Tim and I time to think about the house. The farm doesn't have a house on it, although it does have a stunning homesite at the top of the tallest hill for miles, overlooking hundreds of acres of farmland. The outgoing BOs needed to "intend" to build a house there to get financing, so it's septic-ready and even has 20 year old blueprints we could use if we wanted.

• We are so close to town, that farm field will definitely be a subdivision someday.
• Boarder traffic means the site is not peaceful, which is especially problematic with a reactive dog.
• It's the opposite of secluded, being exposed on the top of the hill. You can't see the barn from the street, but you'd be able to see the house from the street.
• Horses are LOUD, yo. Even living a quarter mile away from them, I hear their unrequited love screams sometimes (and no, it's never the stallion, lol). I started to think some separation would be nice.
• The crop farm next to the farm has a grain dryer and siloes right next to the home site, and it's loud enough that you can't talk at a normal volume outside when it's running September-November every year.

All the while, I was slowly falling in love with the farmhouse. Or, more accurately, the location of the farmhouse.

Both of the current owners' mothers lived in this house, I cannot take credit for the landscaping.

It's a quarter mile off the street down an easement driveway, and that plus the rolling terrain means even people who have lived here their whole lives don't know there's a house there.  

Just part of our long, long, LONG driveway. The farmhouse is right there on the left, but almost invisible thanks to the hill and trees.

It's almost fully protected from ever having neighbors, except the ones that own the rental house, who also own the 20 acres and the only other house behind the farm.

(It was all one farm at one point before being parceled off into two 20 acre tracts, and yeah, if we win the lottery, I'd love to combine them again and own it all someday. A 40 acre horse farm with a big brick colonial and a little farmhouse is a hell of a property!)

It's surrounded by incredible mature trees. 

Just a few of the mature trees in the backyard

It's Meatloaf paradise - despite being close enough to one of the local high schools to hear the announcers during football games and two minutes from Best Buy and Lowe's, the ravine, the hills, the trees, and the complete lack of traffic mean Meatloaf is the most relaxed out here she's ever been.

I've been enjoying the quarter mile walk across the hayfield to the barn. It's the perfect distance to wear my dogs out before work in the morning. 

The barn as seen from my front lawn.

My neighbors' house across the street from the farm on a misty morning. Currently the only house in that field across the street.

The house itself is nothing to write home about, but it ticks Tim and I's boxes in a few ways: 

• It exists, therefore it's cheaper than building new.
• Whole-home renovations are my comfort zone; new construction - not so much. All of my contractors from the last reno gave this one a thumbs up after inspecting it.
• It's small. We both value having "just enough" house after having big ones previously, and a house that encourages us and the kids to spend time outside. Not because it's unpleasant to be in, but because it has wonderful inside/outside spaces and because this beautiful property is just outside the door, begging to be explored.

The only problem? The owners weren't sure they wanted to sell. But after six months of getting to know me, they started to explore the idea, and as of another year after that, we are finally under contract. And it feels so right.