Friday, December 13, 2013

sunship

Around 2000, I kinda forget the date exactly, I bought my first property by myself, on the Winter Prairies.  It was a condominium, not bad for a starter place.  One car garage, 1200 square feet, gas fireplace, washer/dryer, three bedrooms.  A postage stamp sized yard in which I grew strawberries.  And a gaggle of old ladies (condo executives or something) who looked over my fence daily and trimmed my trees without my permission.

Then I bought this weird thing, a hermit home in mountains.  A tiny little shack thing that was meant to be a hidey-hole.  No condo ladies.  No nothing.  But somehow between buying the place and living in it, a strange phenomenon happened, which was that the isolated place abruptly became a trendy snowboarding place.  Two results:  the property value rose from nothing to something; and, I no longer wanted to live there.  I sold it without living in it.

Then I got married.  And had puppies.

Then we bought a place together.  Northern Winter Prairies.  A detached house, 1800 square feet.  Gas fireplace, bonus room, small yard, double garage.  Beige and more beige, beige as far as the eye could see.  Excellent resale value.  Mosquitoes.  We did well because of the stupid oil sands.  Dirty money, maybe.  There was a bidding war for our Prairie Sea of Beige.

And then we moved West, to the sea.  The best move, in my opinion.  A better house, an older house.  Wood burning fireplaces, two of them.  And friendly neighbours.  And a yard that lets me pretend I am alone.  And the ocean nearby, and the mountains.

Now we've put an offer on 32 acres of wilderness on a desolate island.  No amenities.  No power, no hydro.  Maybe they will take our offer, maybe they won't.  It is the first time I have ever made an offer to buy property where I was not waiting on pins and needles for the answer.  We have subjects and conditions, mainly to do with travelling to the island and seeing the place in person.

If they accept our offer we may not even choose to live there anyway.  The property pays its own mortgage by renting use of logging roads to local companies.

Or we might build an earthship.  You know, out of driftwood and stones and junk.

Or we might just visit it on weekends.  In an RV.  Or a tent.

Or we might use it to lure David Suzuki out of the woods to come and stay with us for awhile.

Or, I don't know.

I don't really know what we're doing right now.  Sometimes I let Shawn take the reins completely and close my eyes and hope he doesn't crash.  It is easier now that I know he almost never crashes us.


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Today I used my spare block to counsel a sixteen-year old girl whose boyfriend is regularly threatening to commit suicide.  Admin thinks we do not need any more hours of counselling added to our allotment.  So I do it for free during my spare because I cannot fathom a world where this girl has no one available to talk to her when she needs so much support.  Admin says thank you.  But it isn't about them anyway.  So I am doing the right thing because it is the right thing, not because it leads anywhere or means anything to anyone but the two of us.



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2 comments:

Secret Agent Woman said...

I could live off the grid, I suppose, if I were in a steady relationship. But on my own? No.

mischief said...

Yes, I agree with you that living off the grid requires a partner with whom to share the experience, and the labour. Even with, it might be too much. We are doing some research to find out if it's really what we want.