when we first began visualizing our farm, we saw a place with green rolling hills, a duck pond, a red gambrel roof barn, and no neighbors to be seen for miles. we saw a place that was quiet, remote, and pretty far off the beaten path. when we began land shopping in order to make that dream a reality, we had a bit of a reality check. what we wanted required hundreds of acres. what we could afford was much, much less and while neighbors might not be as close in proximity, we’d still have them.
our little farmette consists of what was once part of a large estate that was divided into ten acre plots and sold off. the plot to the south of us was purchased by a couple who built a home and who raise goats and horses. the plot to the north of us was purchased by a business in town. they purchased several plots in fact and built a warehouse on the one closest to us. this warehouse was the one thing, the only thing about our land that we didn’t like.
it was a warehouse.
it housed machinery.
machinery that was sometimes used during the day.
machinery that makes noise.
the men who operate the machinery drive cars.
the cars are parked in front of the warehouse.
it isn’t picturesque.
before we sealed the deal we did our homework (or so we thought), visited with our realtor about our concerns, investigated the company to see what exactly they did, and visited the property during business hours to see just how great the noise level was (it was very low).
it was all still doable. you really could only hear any noise in the rare cases when the wind died down and quite honestly, the warehouse was very well kept and beautifully landscaped even more so than some of the houses on my street. a privacy hedge could easily be planted along the fence line to block any unpleasant view. it was locally owned and operated, and while not ideal we still got a good vibe. the warehouse was the only “con” opposite a huge list of “pros” in favor of buying the land. one always has to compromise somewhere. right? we went ahead with the deal.
so fast forward then through many weeks of plotting and planning and measuring to figure out just where everything should go: the water tap, the electric poles, the garage (now being called a barn) , and the house itself. fast forward through all the phone calls and paperwork to get said things in place, and through many weeks of waiting on the builder for the weather to clear; fast forward up to thursday of last week.
it is a momentous day, we’re finally breaking ground on the farmette. i’ve met the workmen in town, escorted them out to the spot (it *is* a bit off the beaten path), paid the deposit, and showed him where to start. they dug in and i began snapping away with my camera.
i was so busy i didn’t see the man from the warehouse crossing the field. i didn’t notice him until he was shaking hands with the foreman. i panicked. were we in trouble? was there some sort of easement we didn’t know about?
i put down my camera and trotted over to the barbed wire fence. we shook hands and exchanged all the initial niceties of meeting someone for the first time. then he delivers his bombshell: “just wanted to let ya’ll know we’re planning on expanding. we’ll be building another warehouse or two close to the fence. we are a machine shop and i thought you’d want to know that before you start building right here by the fence.”
>insert record scratch sound effect here<