He said, "Yeah, and I'm homeless."
We laughed.
But it's true. Well, not in the tragic sense.
But we have no place that we call home. All of our stuff (we can hardly remember what most of it is anymore) is in storage. Stuff we packed more than a year ago. Stuff. And except for photos, all of it could disappear, and it wouldn't matter. How's that for a lifetime of collecting.
Here's what we miss: a garden to tend; the work on it that makes us weary to our bones; the quiet and night-time darkness of the countryside; neighbors who have been around and plan to stay; knowing which birds are local and which are the seasonal migrators; the place where the bobcat comes through the yard; the howl of the coyote; the moth at the window; the wildflower in the grasses. The familiar, and the thing that will catch our eyes.
We're making an offer Tuesday morning. It's California, so nothing can be counted on. Wish us luck.
UPDATE: Roger spent the morning at the county building researching this property: what would it take to make any of these structures livable; which structures were permitted and which were not; the condition of the septic, etc. Turns out it would be outrageously expensive for us to undertake such a project. It might as well be raw land, and in that case it's way out of our price range. These four beautiful acres are on the market for $383,000.
Here are a few conversions to give you an idea of what $383,000 US dollars means:
430,745 Canadian Dollar
273,943 Euros
240,335 Pounds
488,157 Australian Dollar
415,247 Swiss Francs
18,238,792 IndianRupees
5,028,057 Mexican Peso
So, it's back to the drawing board. Still dreamin'.
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