Let the magic begin.

We have keys to our house, to our magic kingdom, to our honeymoon cottage, to one of the most spectacular places on earth, to a place whose minutiae might be special to only us.  We went out to the house with cleaning supplies, the dog...

The dog in her new digs.

... and, importantly, our hammock...  for which placement is key.

If ya squint, you'll see the river in the middle right.

We are psyched, overwhelmed, and mostly exhausted after the uphill battle of the last 6 months and 10 days, but two little occurrences today make us confident we're in the right place...

As we carried the hammock about, searching for the perfect distance between two of our (!) many (!) juniper, a huge owl swooped out of a tree and over our heads.  Later, Jim found a pair of small turtle earrings strewn across the carpet in the master bedroom.  Sea turtles have made themselves my totem animal for 12 years or so.  Perhaps our good omens came to wish us well?

Holy cow, we're homeowners!  Let the magic begin.

Gorgeous, peaceful, symphonic

We went out to almost-our-house, just-about-our-house, our-house-within-the-week, and wandered, looking at it more like owners than too-curious visitors.  There's a lot to do - trees to try to save, lots of lawn to water, repairs to be done to the outside of the house, much planning to do, and the writing studio already exists as a spectre, awaiting life.  But I sat at the back of the property, under a juniper, and watched and listened to the river - yup, that's just-about-ours, too - gorgeous, peaceful, symphonic.  I can't wait.  I wonder if today's calm is in part due to having lived out there, for just a little while.

Home dreaming...

On our drive home from Portland, I took the Tumalo exit to our prospective new house, and pulled in the driveway as if we owned it.  Felt good to end our drive in a place with trees and sky, mountains in the distance - I could see it being a lovely place to arrive home.

My writing hut/studio/strawbale/retreat

I can't wait to be writing from my little straw bale writing hut, looking out a low window to the raised beds that will replace that big chunk of pavement at the bottom of the driveway at our Cline Falls house.  I can see a series of windows, some about hip height, with a sill just high enough for feet to rest, and maybe some longer, lower ones that let in the entire vision of the garden.  I think I'll sit in a chair like a soft net, draped with a quilt.  There'll be a desk, too, movable, for both writing and painting.  I think I want a low or a sloped ceiling, so that it's cozy, with a green roof on top.  There have to be other seating areas for writing visitors, maybe some kind of bench built into the wall, a futon, a hammock chair, just pillows on the floor?  Only slippers will be allowed.  How will I light it?  We'll build shelves directly into the wall, for books and trinkets.  There has to be some surface to which I can attach things, something better than cork board.  Maybe I can free myself enough to regularly paint or write on the walls.  I'll have a little broom for sweeping, plants, flowers, and herbs everywhere, and a dog bed for Siri.  Wind chimes outside, maybe the bamboo ones.  My own bird feeders.  A beautiful door with tile outlining it.  A little stoop, also tile.  Perhaps a poem tucked into the bales.  A friendly creative spirit up in the eaves.  A bed loft?  Definitely mobiles.  A beautiful earthen floor.  Maybe my musical instruments out, on the walls.  What to do about shade?

Where we think the writing hut and raised beds will go.

Our new house, your tractor-beams of love!

Dear friends, who have been crossing all your limbs and digits in hopes that we'd eventually get the Cline Falls house that we so love,

Surely you're as tired of the body part crossing as we are.  We've been trying not to think about the house in hopes of avoiding too much heartache, but in the face of yet another delay, we've decided to try a new tactic.  We've decided to go heart-fully forward and summon the house to us with full-on creative imaginings of what it will be like once we own it.  To that end, here is a picture of the living area, as it now stands.  How do you imagine we might make it the vibrant and welcoming heart of our home?  What do you imagine we all might do there?  (At the very least, we're removing the carpet...)  Any and all thoughts of remodeling, decorating, coming together, eating, music making, etc., are welcome.  Please post your comments below.

We are casting aside all our cynicism, worry, and doubt in favor of faith in having a home with lots of heart.  Please help us tractor-beam this special place to us with lots of creativity and love.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!  SWAK!

View from the dining area. Note the woodstove in the back corner and bookshelves on the half wall.

View from the bookshelves.