A Seller’s Market

The current housing market news here at the beach is both encouraging and alarming.  If you are planning to sell your place, you probably couldn’t pick a better time.  But, you’d better have a firm plan about next steps.  “It’s a seller’s market,” as they say.  And, once you’ve sold, finding something to buy is another story entirely — especially if you want to stay here at the beach.

I can’t really remember ever hearing about bidding wars over and above the listed prices happening before.  Not here on the Peninsula.  Nor have I heard of people just approaching homeowners whose houses are not for sale, and making an offer they can’t refuse.  But, that’s what’s going on now according to several of our friends who have had recent first-hand experiences along those lines.  Unbelievable!

Great Place To Visit…

But, of course there’s a downside.  Most sales are being made to out-of-area folks — people from California or Seattle or Portland.  Local residents simply cannot afford the prices.  Even scarier — “some renters are being asked to move with nowhere to go,” according to realtor Doug Knutson.  “Rents are being driven up beyond some folks’ ability to pay.”

I remember visiting in Nantucket some years ago and finding that several restaurants were still closed even though “the season” was well under way.  The problem as one owner explained to us — “The workers have been priced out; they can’t afford to live here any more.”  His answer was to build a housing facility for his employees and to fill it with seasonal workers from the Barbados or other Caribbean Island Countries.  “Not my first choice,” he told us.  “But we’ve run out of options.”

We’ve already heard that one of our well-known Peninsula businesses is considering a similar move — building affordable housing for their employees so they can keep good workers here.  It reminds me, once again, of Ted Holway and “The Apartments” that he had his oyster workers build for themselves in the 1940s.  His purpose was to encourage seasonal workers to stay year ’round by providing low-cost housing for them.  Maybe we are circling back to a similar solution to providing for our local work force.

“Ted’s Apartments” – 1950

Meanwhile, the number of second homes here appears to be on the increase.  There seems something so wrong with this picture — houses empty for much of the year while hard-working parents need to move their families elsewhere to be able to find a place they can afford.  And yet, I can scarcely begrudge those vacation home-owners their opportunity to have “a place at the beach.”  It’s the American dream come true.  I doubt that there is an easy answer…

“Pprrrtt”

Last night Clara was missing from the roost.  Not only that, although it was almost dark, Slutvana left her perch and came out into the run to talk to me.  She was agitated but I couldn’t make out what the trouble was.

Then I heard just the smallest “pprrrtt” sound from way over in the corner underneath the coop — in an area that I can’t reach, of course.  I went outside and peered through the hog wire and there she was!  Clara!  All huddled up and rheumy-eyed making little “pprrrtt” sounds.

I squatted down and talked to her for a while.  Asked if she was okay (which I’m pretty sure she wasn’t) and asked her to come out so I could take her to Dr. Farmer Nyel.  With one last little pathetic sound, she closed her eye in dismissal.  I didn’t know if she was dead.  It’s hard to tell with chickens.

Slutvana pacing, pacing, pacing.

By then, Slutvana had gone back to roost and Little Red Hen was still asleep, apparently oblivious to the drama going on nearby.  I wish I could say I spent a restless night…  But when the alarm rang, I did pull on my boots and headed out.  “Pprrrtt” I heard right away.  Same spot.  Slutvana and LRH nervously pacing in the run.  They weren’t the least bit interested in the cracked corn treats I offered — just boogied off across the lawn toward the house and disappeared underneath leaving Clara huddled in her corner.

Little Red Hen — Nowhere To Be Seen.

Nyel and I spent a good part of the day across the river doing errands.  I dreaded going down to the coop when I got home and hated it that Slutvana met me right at the corner of the house and clucked and clacked all the way to the coop.  No Clara.  No LRH.  Slutvana a bundle of nerves.  What the heck?

A walk-about in the garden  revealed nothing chicken-wise.  I called and Slutvana clucked.  Nothing.  I soothed myself by admiring the rhododendrons that are bursting forth in all their glory. Slutvana went to the East Door hoping Nyel would show up with treats.

Maybe when the sun goes down all three girls will be back at the coop.  We can but hope.

While Farmer Nyel is planting bush beans and onion sets in the Kitchen Garden, I’m in the South Garden sowing nasturtium seeds and missing my Kuzzin Kris.  She and I are at one when it comes to nasturtiums because both of us know that Winnie-ther-Pooh was right about them:
“Christopher Robin gave me a mastershalum seed, and I planted it, and I’m going to have mastershalums all over the front door.”
“I thought they were called nasturtiums,” said Piglet timidly, as he went on jumping.
“No,” said Pooh. “Not these. These are called mastershalums.” A.A.Milne.

Nyel ordered a quarter of a pound of mastershalum seeds for me.  I didn’t count them but, it’s a Bunch — capital B!  I’ve been planting for days and days — well, for three going on four.  Never mind that bad knees prevent me from crawling around the garden beds.  And never mind that I can no longer sit on an upturned bucket and get back up to my feet without help.  I’ve been doing the stoop-labor trick each day for as long as my back will let me.  Which might be twenty minutes.  Hence: “days and days.”

Fortunately the weather has been cooperative.  I hope the seeds will be, too.  Nyel just informed me that these are the “vining” variety which came as a bit of a shock.  The package didn’t say so — as in buy in bulk and take your chances?  It should be interesting.  We’ll probably have mastershalums all over the place.  I think Winnie-ther-Pooh would be pleased.

Oh.  And about Pooh’s name:
When I first heard his name, I said, just as you are going to say, “But I thought he was a boy?”
“So did I,” said Christopher Robin.
“Then you can’t call him Winnie?”
“I don’t.”
“But you said–“
“He’s Winnie-ther-Pooh. Don’t you know what ‘ther’ means?”
“Ah, yes, now I do,” I said quickly; and I hope you do too, because it is all the explanation you are going to get.  A.A. Milne.

Timberland Library is THE best!  Yesterday when we went to our Ocean Park branch to pick up a couple of books, we were asked if we’d like a Garden Starter Kit.  “Yes!  Of course!” and I was handed a lunch-sized paper bag with a cheery “Take It & Make It Garden Starter Kit” label.

I immediately flashed on my friend Maggie Stuckey who, several years ago, did a series of container gardening talks at libraries in Oregon and SW Washington.  She not only told how to plant and manage a garden-in-a-pot, she demonstrated her talk by planting one as she explained each step!  Afterwards, there was a drawing among the audience members and the winner took home her finished container!  (And, in case you didn’t know, Maggie and Rose Marie Nichols McGee wrote the quintessential edible-garden-in-a-pot book, Bountiful Container.)

Before we even left the parking lot, Nyel had looked in the paper sack and had inventoried the contents: 2 small peat pots, 2 green bean seeds, a small bag of soil, a description the particular bean seeds and what they would produce, and an instruction flyer.  Wow!

On the way home we talked about where and how he would set up his starter garden and where he would ultimately plant the young bean plants in their biodegradable pots.  Last night he began one of the books — Robert Crais’ Freefall.  Today he will begin his Spring garden!

And did I mention… We Love Timberland Library!!

Dressed For Chill

“Snow flurries” said the news.  Sounds intriguing and sorta hopeful.  Romantic almost.

But the chickens and I are here to tell you that there was nothing intriguing, hopeful, or romantic about yesterday’s weather.  As every realistic chicken and farmer’s wife knows, nothing flurries without wind.  And the wind was fierce.  I dawdled before going out with their breakfast but, even so, it had only warmed up to 32º.  The wind was coming in from the bay at 15 mph which doesn’t seem much until you’re out in it.  Chill factor 21º.

The girls were off their roosts and milling around inside the coop.  I’ve not seen them behave like that before.  I hung up their food — enough so I wouldn’t have to go out again until this morning — but then (of course!) I saw that their water was frozen.  Duh!

The Girls’ Front Yard

Back to the house,  fill the teakettle and bring it to a boil, back to the lower forty and with some cracked corn treats this time.  I unfroze the water and tossed the treats nearby, calling them through my muffler.  They took turns sticking their heads out the door, but wouldn’t sally forth.

Right now I have the teakettle on again.  It’s not quite as cold today and the snow has disappeared.  Mostly.  I hope there aren’t any frozen chickens down there.  Or dehydrated ones, either.  But… you never can tell with chickens.  Especially during the flurrying time.

“Oysters and Oysterville” screenshot – Sydney and Dobby

There is a lot to be said for blissful ignorance.  While Dobby and I sat quietly waiting yesterday, aware only of “technical difficulties” at the beginning of our video presentation, videographer Aaron Webster was scurrying and Madeline Moore’s thumbs were flying on her cell phone.  Little did we know that the live stream was having severe audio problems and our “audience” was giving blow-by-blow feedback to Madeline.  To us our two “directors” appeared busy but unflappable — definitely cool and working diligently to get things back on track.

We’d had a little forewarning, though.  We arrived about 1:30 — a half hour early.  Aaron had been setting up on the deck at Sea Farms since noon but was having difficulties getting a live feed.  Shortly after Madeline got there, Aaron took off for the schoolhouse to see if things might be better there.  No luck.  Then suddenly we were “on.”  And after a few minutes we weren’t.  Aaron was scurrying.  Madeline was texting and reassuring viewers that it would soon be fine.  Dobby and I were mostly oblivious — sitting quietly, bundled up like two Pillsbury Doughboys against the cold.  Our view from the deck of Oysterville Sea Farms is the best one in all of Oysterville!  We couldn’t have chosen a better place to be cooling (literally!) our jets.

“Oysters and Oysterville” – filmed on the deck of Oysterville Sea Farms

Finally, mics were readjusted, Aaron resumed his place at the computer controls, Madeline continued texting and Dobby and I were given the high sign to continue where we had left off.  (Tricky, given our aged memories but… we struggled forth.)  Afterwards, Madeline was full of enthusiasm and reassurance.  Aaron was mostly silent, probably feeling responsible for whatever glitches had happened but, given the ongoing difficulties with ANY technology working in Oysterville, he had done admirably.

Before leaving home, I had set up my computer for Nyel so he could watch our endeavor.  The first words out of his mouth when I returned were, “Well THAT was a complete disaster!”  Not heartening, to say the least.  Apparently, he gave up on us early in the technological crisis.  So, he and I ended up watching together just before dinner.  Not a disaster, at all — though, I wanted to leap in and edit out some of my ums and uhs, fix my right earring which, at one point seemed to be tucked up under my hat, and a few other self-centered things.

My take-away:  I don’t think there will be a second career opportunity for me on television.  Come to think of it though, I did have a weekly talk-show for a couple of years on the first-ever Hayward Cable station in the late sixties or early seventies…   WOW!   It was called “Teacher Talk.”  Who’duh thunk it?

Look for “Oysters and Oysterville” on Wednesday, February 10, at 2:00

All things being equal, Dobby Wiegardt and I will be “streaming live” (as they say) on Facebook tomorrow.  The cameras roll at two o’clock — rain (from the Oysterville Schoolhouse) or shine (from the deck of Oysterville Sea Farms.)  Cape D Interpreters Aaron Webster and Stephen Wood will be doing the videography and Madeline Moore will make the introductory remarks on behalf of the Columbia Heritage Museum.  Our topic is “Oysters and Oysterville.”

Dobby, of course, will be talking about the history of oysters here on Shoalwater (now Willapa) Bay.  His family has been in oystering here since his grandfather, Heinrich Wiegardt arrived in the mid-1870s and Dobby, himself, has been in the family business all of his long life.  He probably knows more about the oysters of Willapa Bay than anyone else around.  I’m looking forward to hearing what he has to say.

Dobby with his grandfather’s hats, April 2019.

My area of “expertise” (presumably) is Oysterville.  My family roots go back a generation earlier than Dobby’s — to 1852 when my great-grandfather, Robert Hamilton Espy, arrived in newly created Pacific County, then still a part of Oregon Territory. He co-founded Oysterville in 1954 and the Espys have had a presence here ever since.  I love the stories about the early days — especially the stories told around our library fireplace by my grandfather and his sister, my great Aunt Dora.

They talked about the “characters” they remembered from their childhood in the 1870s — those they called “the saints and the sinners.”  Papa talked mostly about the saints and Aunt Dora, the sinners.  I have to admit, I remember her stories best!  I hope I remember to tell some of them tomorrow.

Masked Sydney, October 2020

We won’t have much time — “30 to 45 minutes” we were told.  Dobby and I agreed that we’d better take a few notes along with us — to keep ourselves on track.  There’s something that happens when you get to our venerable age that plays havoc with your memory.   I’m pretty sure that I’ll need more notes than Dobby — even though he is more venerable by five whole years!

I hope you get a chance to see us!  If you miss tomorrow’s 2:00 live performance, I believe it will be available on YouTube later.