~ Retired and Starting My Future In The Foothills ~

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I would like to interject here that Linda made a typo.

It was her sister that died, not her sitter.

Her "sitters" are all broody hens, and they leave Linda a completely DIFFERENT type of nest egg!
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Well I'll play the Devils advocate. It's in CA? No snow? then that's good. Taxes? Only you know what you can afford but they will go up.

Now some things we learned.

Get a house inspection. Roof , basement the whole nine yards. It's worth the money. Make sure if it has a Sceptic system that it up to the largest number of people you expect to live in the house. If your single keep it in your own name. I don't care about Love smuve.

Get a surveyor map and updated one. If they won't get it insist on it even if you have to pay for it after the sale.

Above all get a lawyer. Did I say get a lawyer. Don't trust the selling real estate agent. They are not your friend.

Oh and one final thing,

Get a lawyer of your own.

I like it let me know when I can come for a visit. I'll bring some chickens.
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Rancher Hicks.
 
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Very cool! I will have to skim through the rest of the thread for the pictures and stories. Should only take a couple weeks
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I am anxious to see the result of the hearing! Hopefully they will see sense....
 
Thanks for the recap! I'm a recent follower of your story (you are a wonderful storyteller), and I will be thinking of you and rooting for you in your hearing.
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You were really handed a dirty deal
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And your place, the house, the setting, is so charming and so perfect for chickens...
 
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Quote:
I would like to interject here that Linda made a typo.

It was her sister that died, not her sitter.

Her "sitters" are all broody hens, and they leave Linda a completely DIFFERENT type of nest egg!
gig.gif


HAHAHA
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I posted this back on another thread in October, but have been so proud of it I wanted to "publish" it here, in this thread. (I'm trying to distract myself as the days and hours count down to the hearing...)

To be sung to the tune of "Piano Man."

It’s five A. M. on a Saturday
The rooster and hens shuffle out
There’s a biddy below the favorite roost
Fluffing feathers and bawking aloud
She clucks, “Son, can you give me a boost?
I’m not really sure of my wings anymore
But the roost way up high is where I belong
When I was a pullet of yours.”

Help me earn rank, you’re the Rooster man
Tell those young hens I’m alright.
Well, everyone’s pecking around in the dirt
And you keep the flock really tight.

Now Champ at the door is my own little chick
He brings me some treats for free
And he’s quick with the bugs or juiciest grubs
But there’s someplace that he’d rather be.
He says, “Mom, there are hens outside in the pens,”
As the chirp fell away from his beak.
”Well I’m sure I could catch just a couple of them
If I could just practice my sneak. “

Now Rusty is a trusty young cockerel
Who stops some of the burgeoning strife.
And he’s scratchin’ with Davy (who tastes good with gravy
Once he comes to the end of his life).

And the pullets are practicing Egg Songs
As the broodies pluck feathers to bone
Yes, they’re sharing the best of all of the nests
But it’s better than laying alone.

Help me earn rank, you’re the Rooster man
Tell those young hens I’m alright
Well, everyone’s pecking around in the dirt
And you keep the flock really tight

It’s the happiest flock on a Saturday
And the Head Rooster wing dances with style
‘Cause he knows that it’s me that brings them the feed
To turn upside down beaks into smiles.
And the coop is empty of pullets and hens
And the flock, well, it clucks very clear
And they scratch in the weeds looking for seeds
To bok, “This is the best place right here!”
 

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