Sunklands

I was also going to chat with Hucka D. about the house situation — *houses* — but I felt like I shouldn’t undercut Carrcassonnee’s own comments. So I’ll just chat with myself. Here’s the deal. We have a chance to sell our current house and then buy a new house we’ve had our eye on. The House on The Hill.

We’ll have to sell cheap. But we bought it cheap. We’re moving up. But then we can sell up. If we were smart we’d have sold about 10 years back. But where to move at the time? There’s another house in the neighborhood that might sell for close to twice what we get for ours, but with a similar floor plan. That’s what we’re looking at.

My “new” job and new office are stabilizing. Just have to catch on to my main new part of the job; I won’t describe it in any detail except to say that it’s an extension of what I do presently.

Is it worth working another year for, however? When we bought the present house I was a *contract* person, working year to year without any guarantees. Now it’s pretty clear sailing to the finish line. 5 1/2? Probably 6 1/2. Maybe more now? Edna is 7 1/2 years out.

We still plan to move to Middletown after retiring. We still own land there that we can build on.

Creativity: I’m very pleased with the Sunklands site. Must protect. Must build upon it. Protect the collages, the a/v synchs. Protect the writing.

This could be the last hurrah in Blue Mountain. We’ve both basically lived here since we were 17, subtract a couple of years here and there. This will be a way to sum it all up. The House on The Hill.

Before we bought the present house, Edna reinforced to me last night that we’ve never lived anywhere, after we came to college and left the home nest, for longer than 3 years. We’ve been in this place *18* plus years now. But this is the first house we’ve owned instead of rented.

What is the grand plan? Still to move to Middletown, of course. But there we want to build a *new* home, and probably a modular one. Low maintenance for our old age. The House on The Hill is, in contrast, a quite old house for Blue Mtn. 90 years old. Just the kind of house we’re *attracted* to, but we said we wouldn’t buy because of the maintenance costs. Yet here we are. On the brink of making an offer on one.

Is it a siren lure? We’ll be there 8-10 years, then hand off to someone else. We plan *minimal* repairs — only the necessities. The upstairs will remain unfinished except for that one room which will be *my study*.

We’ll have to rewire most of the house. We’re thinking of taking that off of the cost.

We still have some decisions to make.

“Carrcassonnee, you’ve been helping me a lot on recent projects and I thought I’d ask you about the potential new house. Do you have any ideas… well, let me ask some specific questions.”

Carr.:

Waste away. Goodnight!

bb:

Goodnight to you too!

Carr.:

!

bb:

Our house is wasting away?

Carr.:

Yes. Get out while you can. But don’t take less than what you’re presently thinking in your mind. It’s worth more than the one next door.

bb:

Excellent words tonight Carrcassonnee!

Carr.:

You’re welcome! I learn less bad words. I’m like Karl 50,000 years back.

bb:

And then the new house…

Carr.:

Buy. Buy buy buy!

bb:

150000?

Carr.:

Back.

And here’s Big Beach, a fairly impressive run of rounded rocks. A toy happening might be in the works for this place soon, or perhaps for all of Peanuts in a collective manner.

The start of a path on the northern end of this beach that quickly leads up to a rocky cliff.

A prominent rock of the rocky cliff can be seen in the background. This is taken from Big Beach.

Looming Peanuts trees. Probably taken from Big Beach as well.

Big Beach butterflies.

Big Beach smashed soda drink can. Maybe a Mountain Dew? Or perhaps a Sundrop.

Matching pipe and rock across the stream from the beach.

Big Beach from the south. Hard to tell from this picture but there’s definitely a storm brewing in the background! The skies would open up just as I got back into the car after my wade. I’m *such* a lucky boy!

We’re back downstream from Peanuts now with this photo of an old cinder block. As you can imagine from an urban landscape, many man-made objects are found in or near Leola Creek.

Unnamed Leola Creek rock in ALO.

And now a shot from near Point+1 in our Urban Landscape: merging culverts.

Before we get to the newest wading of Leola Creek, here’s one more picture from The Hill that I wanted to show because that rock I placed in the hole of this tree was *gone* upon a return trip. Now I’m not saying that kids didn’t remove it or something, but I’m just trying to note oddities as they happen. And they do happen. Could it be a communication directly from The Hill itself (whatever that means)??

Now to Leola Creek and the core of the Urban Landscape. I’m afraid that types of homeless people might at least stay in the Landscape sometimes, as witnessed by what seems to be a box of clothes, spied from the main trail as we look down at Leola Creek flowing below. Not that I don’t feel sorry for the homeless. Heck I was kind of one myself during periods of my youth. But there’s also a small danger factor involved. Good to be aware of possible natives.

Happy pink whale on a sign. Perhaps the town has had past trouble with people sleeping under this bridge, which would be at Point-0 in our Blue Mtn. Urban Landscape. We are at or near its heart, which would also include the neighboring ALO region.

The plants around the wetlands originally pictured here have been mowed. A shame.

Coral mushrooms have sprung up beneath a nearby grove of trees. Fungi are so peculiar!

We return now to that wider strip of land between commercial property and creek just north of ALO, or perhaps part of it — unsure still. Oh, I remember I call it Peanuts now, because of the actual owners of the land. Inside blog joke. I spotted 3 deer at the south end of this strip as I waded upstream in Leola Creek toward it. Amazing how animals adapted to their environment. I would not have guessed that there was enough wildland here to safely sustain them. I didn’t manage any pictures of ’em, however.

The tree pictured below, a willow I believe, lies instead toward the northern end of Peanuts (originally: Peanuts’, as in Peanuts’ land?).

This is what I call Small Beach, not far from the willow. Peanuts also contains a complementary Big Beach that I’ll get to in a moment.

Pipes — I still didn’t take any really satisfactory pictures of the numerous drainage type pipes marking Peanuts’ western border. But soon! I also want to craft a map of the place.

A path starting up a bank connects Peanuts to a narrower wooded area to the north. Obviously this is used by deer. I didn’t want to walk too far up it because I could possibly be spotted by fellow human beings from a flanking parking lot.

Yellow flowers growing on the stream bank between Peanuts’ Small Beach and Big Beach.

The miraculous top of The Hill. I didn’t expect *this* at all: some kind of old children’s fort or perhaps a squatter’s former home. Complex and also dilapidated enough that it’s difficult to tell exactly what it once was. I’ll let my overexposed pictures attempt to speak the story for now.

Angel lying in front of what appears to be a door. Front? Again I can’t really make much heads or tails of the structure.

Nearby rotting trunk with an old stick of deodorant.

There’s what appears to be some native rocks in the vicinity as well.

Back down at The Road.

And now further down at The House. Is this our yard???

The Hill in reference to the Blue Mountain Urban Landscape. Technically it is part of that landscape I would assume. ALO on Leola Creek is in the center of the background.

The Hill is a marvelous marvelous place in the center of Blue Mountain city. It’s clearly magical and has ways to protect itself from development. But for how long? That has become a key question. A key question indeed. 10 years out — well that’s probably okay. But if it starts to get developed next year then that’s more of a problem. Much more. Of course I’d rather not see it developed *ever* but this is a growing city and The Hill represents an improbable spot of leftover nature. It will be razed. Just a matter of time.

We start nearer the bottom of the hill at The House. The House? Is it our house? It is in a probable reality. More on that soon. The bricks here might become part of a New Monkey City. Have I mentioned Monkey City on this blog? A couple of time, especially in connection with “another” New Monkey City over in Frank park near Whitehead Crossing.

A pretty straight path goes in a northeast direction up the hill from the road below, reaching a point formerly called The Beach. The Beach on The Hill, ha. I haven’t visited this place in maybe 20 years. Maybe 30. And it’s really changed. I remember it to be covered with moss and lichen, which are nowhere to be seen now.

Before starting up The Path we detour to a bank (The Bank?) that gives us a nice view of a commercial strip below us and then ol’ Blue Mountain itself rearing up in the background.

After about the length of Blue Mountain State College’s football field, this path crosses the grassy remains of an old road that runs around the south and west side of the hill. I suppose this becomes, then, The Road. More capitals.

If you follow the old road northward from here you soon come back into civilization in the form of Blue Mtn. residents’ backyards on a bordering northern street. Here we see faux deer in one of those backyards. Didn’t come when called.

We jump to the top of The Hill now with this picture, or more specifically, the edge of a pretty steep bank marking its western side. I thought I’d include the photo because of possible light spirits involved. Spirits of The Hill. Probably not, but also probably worth a thought anyway.

Moss covered rock at the base of a tree passed as we approach the top from the other side.

Then following The Path *down* from the top soon brings us to The Beach. I suppose I’ll still call it that even though it has nothing of the appearance it did before that gave it a beach-y feel.

Purple mushroom on The Hill.

Red leaves on The Hill. Is it Fall already? Jees.