We moved here as a young family when BG was four, mainly because of my desire for her to grow up in the country like I did. We sold a house that would have been paid for three times by now and used the small profit to buy furniture for our country home. Over those 21 years I/we have paid 75k in rent on a house that has absolutely NO insulation and windows that (used to) open with ropes built into the frames. I have planted perennials on top of annuals and harvested asparagus and tomatos. I have fed the birds and otherwise been good to mother earth.
Last month, one of the kids of the guy who owned it and who had a sentimental attachment to the place came down from Michigan in response to our request of one year ago that somebody come and see what's up because my Daddy certainly doesn't know due to his dementia. He managed their property for 53 years, carefully filing farm reports and delivering calves in the dead of winter, all for the rent free log cabin where we were raised and a little bit pocket change on the side. This was in addition to his day job with the US department of agriculture.
These people, the family who owns it all, have no idea about the history of the place and probably don't care. My goal has been to record that in case somewhere down the line, somebody actually does give a damn. As I sit here typing, gazing out at the dairy barn that should be on the National Historic Registry, I'm trying to figure out how the hell I'll pay the extra hundred bucks a month that will be added to my rent come January when the new and improved leases kick in. My guess is that I'll be moving somewhere else where the utility bill isn't unreasonable due to drafts and cracks in every wall and window. And that will kill my soul.
Mom and Daddy can stay per the original agreement, so that's a blessing. I've made many mistakes over the years regarding love and money and simple day to day decisions. Who hasn't. But you know what? I've always done what I thought was the right thing according to the what-would-Big-Ernie-do rule.
What a shame that others don't live that way.
^j^
It's hard to look at the bright side when it's so dang dark Janie.. but for some reason I'm thinking ole Big Ernie's got a reason for this here thing happening.
ReplyDeleteI've been through crap storms so dang thick that the black barrel of a .25 started to look sorta invitin', if you can dig it... but no, 'stead I found a copy of the New Testament.. and I sure wouldn't a' picked THAT thing up if'n I'd have still been living the happy life I thought I had....
I can't say what's going on for you darlin'. I ain't walking in your shoes. But I do know you and Ernie get along pretty well, and he DOES tend to take care o' them that love HIM.
And YOU do...
I'll be praying for you and yours....
Love ya'll kiddo.
But in the grand scheme of things, unless you were actually living with your parents, this is likely the right move isn't it? You have mentioned before that BG and on-again-off-again room-mate are looking at getting their own place. So that would leave you footing the bill all alone if I'm not mistaken. And with the walls and windows as thin and drafty as they are, well, that just isn't good for the pocketbook or the soul. Perhaps though you move, you can still garden out there, as I'm sure you will be there more than enough to look after your folks.
ReplyDeleteHugs and prayers.
love you <3
ReplyDelete~a
Poopie, I wish I had an answer for you. I am sorry.
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