Developer dreams
Another afternoon spent close to home. Parentheses: home is a tent, and we’re actually far from our furniture and family. We dug into the cooler for breakfast ideas, had the requisite cup of mediocre coffee and then headed to visit a friend and catch up on the news.
Once our visit was over, we were left to that staple of summer. Driving up and down familiar (and unfamiliar) roads. Foreign licence plates are a great excuse for driving down private lanes, following that other staple of summer: for sale signs. Not that we’re “in the market”, but there is value in knowing what someone else might want. Or not. I’m still curious about how many signs it takes to get a sale. Is this akin to fishing?
When the road is bumpy and made of clay, can you access the site other than during the prime season? If the house is too lovely to believe, are we simply being hoodwinked? Is the price nothing more than a fabulation, a flight of fancy?
There are a number of “upscale developments”, with names and welcoming signboards, but only one lot sold in the last few years. We checked out a magnificent bungalow (cottage) down by the water’s edge… the price did give us pause for reflection. I imagine if the place ever sells, the developer will have assured that personal retirement will be done “over easy”.
And so we returned to our temporary address, to relax and await the arrival of the Perseids, due to traverse the heavens this very evening, clouds permitting.
