Let go back a few years ago before the fateful pig farm visit. It's 2006 and we had just been preapproved for 400k to buy a house. At this point in my life I felt that kind of money should get me a large house with a pool and a part time servant. My wife and I were looking for a Mc Mansion of sorts to validate our current success. Unfortunately 2006 was the peak of the housing market. We determined to find a place to sink our roots! The first house we placed a bid on was very pedestrian. To highlight the absurdity of the times our realtor suggested we write a personal letter to the people selling the house explaining why they should sell the house to us. As if 325k, 10k above their asking price, was enough reasons. My wife carried out the dubious task inserting very personal reasons for them to take a large sum of our money in exchange for a very average house that lacked a pool or any hired help. While we were the first to put a bid on this particular house they were entertaining offers up to last moment. They were grateful for the letter and politely declined instead taking a offer placed over the internet on the last day. My poor wife was crushed. In hind sight this was blessing. The next house my wife found, not the realtor, was on the edge a of a very nice neighborhood. The realtor himself lived seval blocks away. Not sure how my wife found it before him....... We blessed that the person renting the house had two large dogs that went to the bathroom everywhere in the house. It was difficult to breath in the house as the stench from the dogs was over powering to the olfactory system. The poor lady that lived there was a widower that was living alone with her dog. The owner was selling the house out from under her to cash in on the over inflated market. Me being the Mr. Fixit saw that I could remove the carpet paint the floors and install hardwood floors. At last we had found our Mc Mansion less pool, hired help and suitable breathing air. It took about three years to get the house into good order with hardwood floors throughout, walk in pantry, tile floors/counters in kitchen and bathrooms and an oak staircase. Life should be good right..wrong. We landed smack dab in the middle of typical suburbia where house wife’s wanted to know what you were doing to your house. Neighbors questioned if were allowed to put up a white picket fence between our yards. We had a few crazy neighbors to say the least that were well within shouting distance. We had a drunk lady who talked as loud as she could into her cell phone at all hours of the day in her front yard. We had the neighbor who went searching for his cat in the early hours of the night with a google watt flash light. I told my wife that I never felt at home even thought I pour my blood sweat and tear in the remodel. For me there was never peace since you could always hear your neighbors, even with the doors and windows closed. At the time we had 2 dogs and 3 cats. Over the years we allowed our children to have lots of different pets from rats and guinea pigs to mice and lizards and bunny rabbits. We would frequently visit a local farm feed store for supplies. I think this was the catalyst as you see. One day during a visit the feed store had baby chickens for sale. It was love at first sight for my wife. I was a little more cautious as I knew to the nosey neighbors would be unhappy with the little fuzzy cuties. My wife does some research and lets me know the city is ok with having 3 laying chickens but no roosters. Now it begins, 3 chickens. Oh no not three but five since one or two might die before they get to laying age. We bring the little ones home and the small farm unbeknown to me begins. It seemed like every time we went to the feed store my wife would bring home a new set of animals, first chickens then 2 ducks then 2 geese then a few more different types of chickens... Is this how Noah’s Arc started? Our family loved the critters. My daughter would put a goose on her lap while she read. We put ducks in the small pool with my son. The love for the animals did not extend past the confines of our yard. One day one of the chickens flew over the fence and was looking into the neighbors sliding glass door. The neighbors wife was pretty much terrified. She politely came over and asked me to remove the chicken from her yard, her yard was really her dads house she was renting and to please never let it get out of our yard. I said I sorry and promptly removed the chicken from her yard. I tried to show her that the chicken was quite friendly and that the poop was actually good for her grass. From the look on her face, I could tell she was not drinking the cool aide. The next day her mother, owner of the property and owner of a lot of facial makeup, confronted my wife about the chicken while my wife was performing gardening tasks in the front yard. My wife and I are very similar in that you say sorry when it is needed. If that sorry is not accepted then it’s a you problem. After saying sorry to the neighbor the neighbor would not stop giving my wife a hard time about having chickens in a nice neighborhood, at the time she wasn't aware of the ducks/geese. My wife having heard enough and being interrupted from her mental get away of gardening told the neighbor to get on her broom and shove off. So the legal battle began for us to keep 3 chickens and ultimately a farm in the near future.....
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