Paulino's Bachelor Pad

Paulino had the best idea for a house. He had a $12,000 metal building constructed as the exterior shell. Then he and a friend built a loft in the upstairs. The downstairs acted as a shop space, except, an old green Cadillac and broken down commercial ovens took up most of the interior -- but we'll ignore that. He had yet to dig a well, so the roof acted as a rain catchment system. The gutter led down to an 800-gallon tank that siphoned into another tank on the inside. On the south facing side were posts in the ground for a future two-story greenhouse for passive solar. He had yet to incorporate the second story porch in his plans. Who knows if the greenhouse will ever happen?

I've always dreamt of building a rustic, barnhouse bachelor pad and this was a great example of one.

Laundromat

I hate doing laundry at the laundromat. No matter how unscented your detergent is, you can still smell the Tide from the prior wash. Plus, it costs a small fortune to dry a pair of thick socks. I guess I'm just sensitive to smells and cheap.

Needs

Erin and I just left Earth Mountain Education Farm located in southeastern Colorado. We spent the night in the parking lot to Santa Fe national forest. We're in need of an oil change, a humid climate, showers, and a professional massage...

Ticks, Ticks, Ticks

Yesterday, I pulled a tick off my ass. I thought to myself, "Is there any privacy these days?"

I hate ticks. I'm averaging two ticks a days here in Tennessee. Top that!

Leaving Pulaski

We left Pulaski on Friday evening. We had planned to leave around 3 PM, but lost a couple hours hanging out with the animals and taking pictures of Karen's farm. Putting all the belongings we stashed in their basement back into the van took about an hour. Making the iced coffee and saying goodbye took another hour. So we left in time to get to wherever we were going in the dark. The address to the next farm from where we were in Pulaski on Google maps took 2 hours. But since we drove the wrong direction for an hour, it added an extra two to the trip...

(note: Never tell your girlfriend that it's her fault that you drove the wrong way.)

On the phone, Paulino may have been a mafioso or a southern farmer -- we couldn't tell. The directions he gave us seemed vague upon hitting the back roads near his farm. He told us to drive down a dirt road for 2 1/2 miles. He'd "meet us at the church on the left."

This seemed suspicious to me. It was now dark. Erin was gripping my arm tighter and tighter while the gas gauge moved closer and closer to E. The road was in rough shape. There was debris all over the road. Erosion caused gullies. Every minute we would drive over what we later found out were cattle-guards. In the dark, it felt uncomfortable. We could imagine the wheels falling through, being stuck in the middle of nowhere Tennessee -- wait, surely, Paulino would help us. How could we contact him? There was no cell phone coverage.

Finally, after Erin and I made up scenarios, depicting the horror stories about Paulino and "the church," we had made it to the abandoned white church and saw his red SUV up to the left. I rolled down my window and creeped towards him. He sped away and waved his finger, signaling to follow. Erin and I looked at each other in terror. We were hoping to get a chance to ask where we were, but down the road he went. And down the road we followed.

A collective gulp between the two of us.

"Why wouldn't you let me get a handgun," I asked.

"I don't know... maybe you should get one," Erin replied quietly.

"Too late now."

The road worsened. A creek. In the dark it could have been 4 feet deep. Paulino continued on. Would the van make it through? It was rear-wheel drive and could manage to get itself stuck in a puddle on the wrong day. We decided to drive through following the lights ahead in the distance.

The headlights illuminated a metal structure with an old, 1970's-style Chevy truck. I noticed the bed was filled with trash. Out popped a short, pudgy Sicilian man with a very obvious New Orleans accent.

"Paulino?"

A collective sigh between the two of us.

(note: prounced "nu-owrlins" -- not "new or-leens")

We made it.

Cops

Yesterday we were pulled over by a state policeman. He had absolutely no reason to pull us over.

He said that "he thought we weren't wearing our seat belts," in a thick southern accent, butchering the English language as he sped on blabbering.

But we were wearing our seat belts and I've never been in trouble with the law. Maybe he didn't know what he was doing was illegal. In retrospect, I failed to mention to him how unconvincing his lie was. He was so curious! I guess your life story is needed along with liscence and registration.

Some people are so nosey that they would go through training to wear a uniform, carry a gun, and salute the flag just to pull you over with those blue lights flashing to get a closer look at my pretty face. Pff...

Hill House Farm

Above: Henwen, Cooper, and the outdoor wood stove.


We've been staying with a couple in south-central Tennessee. Surprisingly, Pulaski -- the town -- is on the map. They live outside of town, on a 37-acre parcel of land, in a 4000 sq. ft. house, which use to be a retirement home that was renovated by the guy who wrote all those awful Y2K books. The house is enormous and not very well built, but there are some interesting aspects to it. The hot water and forced hot air is energized from an outdoor wood stove. Although it gives off lots of smoke, it is after all a renewable source of energy. The fire box is about 4x4 and heats a 750-gallon drum right above it. The house also came with solar panels and a diesel generator. The were big enough to electrify maybe one floor, so they sold them. It appears the builders or electricians didn't understand the size of house they needed to power using the alternative energies. The idea was that the house could withstand the "Y2K disaster," but when nothing happened and the house withstood it in stellar form, they moved out. Ron and Karen moved in.

About 60 farm animals roam around the lawn and in one of four fenced-in areas. They have: horses, sheep, goats, pigs, Jersey cows, Angora rabbits, ducks, chickens, Guinea hens, dogs and cats.

There are three lamb that bounce around the lawn chasing after each other. The young cow, Zero, a boy is super affectionate. Cooper, the obese Potbelly pig moves every once in awhile in search for food. She can't see much. Henwen, the other pig is one of the loudest creature on the farm. She's always begging for food or affection. Perhaps, the loudest creature on the farm is the protector, Dexter, a female Pyrenees. All night she barks at predators protecting her herd. She's constantly barking at something that no human could see or hear. Maybe it's nothing.

We've stayed her for about a week, but alas, it's time for us to move on. I think we'll head northwest through Tennessee.