THE OLD MAN AND THE FINCA

I guess some of you may have already noticed, that after a long, long, literary dry spell, my feeble brain has now dribbled out another thought. It ends a period where I could not remember why I was writing these memories and for whom. I am now back. My old mind is just throbbing with things, possibly, worthy of putting to paper. That is, once I secure the required permissions, from those that I might offend. This next piece is about what it takes to make an old man happy at this stage in life. Well, it goes like this.

For the past couple of years Ron and JMW have been searching for a permanent home on the island. Deysi and I have been looking at potential properties, for them, from one end of this island to the other. They already have a wilderness retreat on the north end of the island, so we never really dared hope that they would have more than that. We concentrated our search in the southern quadrant, closer to a major city and a small International airport. During this time we experienced real estate prices doubling and doubling again.

As prices rose, we felt our faint hope of ever having them on the same island as us, slipping away. I think it has been, a lifelong dream of Deysi to have both of her girls somewhere close to her. Ange already lives within 3 hours. D2, A and the grandkids are an hour away. Having Ron and JMW here also would bring fulfillment. Having said this, and as we watched prices skyrocket, our hopes became mere phantoms. Realistically it did not look promising. However, Deysi kept us beating a path from home, “down island” in search of this elusive dream.

We looked at a wide range of properties, almost exclusively they were in a rural setting, slightly out of the traffic flow and provided some element of privacy. I might say it was enjoyable. It gave purpose to our daily excursions. We would pack our picnic, arrange for two or three properties to visit and head out. There were many great debates on the relative merits of everything we looked at. We had found a long suffering realtor, in that area. He did not seem to mind showing us endless properties. He was a very optimistic fellow.

As time passed, and the property offerings, grew more sparse, our hopes of them ever moving to the island, dulled. Then one day Ron arrived to look at some properties that we had located, near a small city, towards the south of the island. One in particular, was on the outskirts of town, and not that remote. However, it did appear promising. What it had was 10, clear, flat acres of usable land. It seemed perfect for some sort of business venture, which they had expressed some interest in. We went and looked. Ron walked around and looked at everything in great detail. She consulted with JMW (at home working) almost constantly, while walking the property. We started to feel a small glimmer of hope.

Our hopes dimmed, once we realized that it was too close to town for them. Although on the outskirts of town, it was still only a stone’s throw from Walmart. Deysi was thinking, “too civilized” and she was right. We started to get the real feel of what they wanted, as we showed Ron around the properties that Desyi had selected. We had a good time looking at high priced land and dreaming of what might be.

With nothing purchased we returned home for our last day together, before her leaving. Desyi decided that since Ron had some time free, then maybe we could look at a couple of properties around home. She had the realtor from down-island arrange for a colleague to show us around. I was only half paying attention because, I never even dared to hope, that they might settle anywhere near “the old folks”.

If I had even considered them buying nearby to us, I would have been a lot more interested in looking at my 70th house. Somehow, the second property we viewed, just called to Ron’s heart. Again, she gave JMW the blow by blow as she strolled around this property. It was rural, about 15 minutes from our hometown, close to the ocean, about 2 miles, and down a dead-end road. The property consisted of 9 acres, 50% heavily treed, a house in the middle, 250 feet in from the road, and flower gardens, a pond, fountain, and berry trees. It was paradise.

We spent the morning looking at three properties and then I left them for my weekly round of golf. I was, as usual chopping and hacking around the course, cursing and swearing and having a marvellous time. All thoughts of house hunting had left me. And then I got a message. It was Deysi. She told me that they were going to make an offer on the property. I’m going, “which property”? “The one near home, with the forest and the gardens”, she cries out. Well you coulda knocked ol’ JimboRed over with a phantom punch! I cannot believe it.

Even in my prime, I would have had a hard time making that momentous of a decision, in the matter of a couple of hours. Not so for Ron and JMW! With a little encouragement from Ange, it seemed like it did not take them much time, to “change the world”. If I was “gob smacked”, you can imagine how Deysi was. She was so excited, she liked to have fainted dead away. This summer, the deal closed, and the rest is history. I cannot remember such excitement “since the pigs ate my little sister”!

So, that is how ol’ Jimbored arrived at a “happy place”, this late in life. It now seems as if we are caught in a whirlwind of activity. I have endless weeds I can pick, if I ever run out at home. We are left in charge of the finca during times when they are away, preparing for their final migration to the island. I put on gardening clothes and just wait for Deysi to assign me a little patch of weeds to curse at. Aaahhhh, heaven!

I could go on describing, what I call “the finca”, but I think it is just better to stifle myself, and let our early photos do the talking. I often wonder during these periods of seclusion, surrounded by nature and wildlife, when things are so peaceful and still, if I holler out a thought to the forest. “Am I still wrong”? The answer, TK, is I think so.