Ok, I know urbaning is not a word. That is, I know that I don’t know if urbaning is a word. Does that make sense? But you get the gist of the question.
I live in the city. Not THE city. That, for you non-northern Californians, is San Francisco. I live in San Francisco’s gimpy little brother city–Sacramento. Not Sac Town, which though it is the name of a magazine here, is actually a real town in Iowa. Not Sacatomato (are we really the Big Tomato? Really?). Not, as someone helping us fill out paperwork over the phone spelled it, Scaramento. Just plain old Sacramento. A city full of politicians and rich developers who don’t give a shit about beautiful scenery or valuable farmland, or old and wonderful things like the Alhambra Theater. The real people here are very awesome though. And we know a bunch of them; friends we’ve grown up with, hordes and hordes of eccentric and affectionate family, pets who’ve passed on to pet heaven. Well, the dead pets don’t really matter. But there are friends and family buried here for both of us, sort of like familial and filial roots tying us into the very soil of the place.
So how can we have a little place of our own, a little patch of sustainence and beauty, without offending the ties that bind us here? Are there ways to get land cheaply in California? Even a half acre lot around Sacramento is out of our budget entirely. And is it worth it to stay in a city you don’t like very much simply because of the people. Probably. Hmmm. There must be some happy middle way we haven’t thought of yet.