We're thinking about the unthinkable...

We're seriously thinking about selling Nutters Grove.

Eight years ago when we bought this farmlet, no one wanted to live out this way. Now subdivisions are springing up eerily close by, the boonies are becoming a village (complete with nearby village idiot aka Moonie the Loonie), and our farm is worth close to five times what we paid for it.

Good grief!

We don't NEED all this land. We'll either have to do something with it (and not the original plan of walnuts, either), or let it waste like it is now. But blocks with just this amount are getting rare as hen's teeth, whereas smaller blocks with nicer houses are significantly cheaper.

So (for a change) I want a nice house. Not into impressing anyone but me, btw. But I would like not to get frost bite when I traipse down the hall to visit the powder room in the middle of the night. I'd like to not worry so much about the alarming increase in traffic on our road (big trucks going way too fast). I'd like to let the Squidlet out more often for rambunctious fun without having to fret about our lack of fences, a bloody great water race and the neighbour's nasty dog.

Poor Wayne is aghast, but it was his idea in the first place. Not my fault if I took a few years to change my mind in line with him. Motherhood gives you the right to move a few goalposts.

Oh.. and I want the hell away from Frank. The guy gets scarier by the day.

So it's going to take a lot of work, and we're already very busy people (which is why I've been conspicuous by my absence.. but hey, I'm still pulling nuthin but A's so you'll forgive me I'm sure!). We figure we'll be here for a while yet. Wayne says "two years at least". Karl says "Hmmm... 18 months TOPS!"

I could stand to drop from 30 acres to 5-10 :-) That's enough for a geegee or two.

Btw, you didn't log on for this. You wanted to know how Braeden's getting on.

He goes to private kindergarten two afternoons a week, and only recently was open to the idea of Mum ***not*** staying for the entire time. Now he is so laid back about my leaving that he looks at me as if to say "Why are you still here? You're cramping my style."

Last Friday it was persisting down, so I thought they probably had a hard time with keeping Mr Outdoors inside but when I collected him, his teachers had some funny news to impart.

It seems he spent the entire rainy afternoon sitting under the artist's easel (sp? too lazy to look it up), with TWO little girls of 2+ years of age, and all the teachers could see were three little heads in a huddle, exuding frequent giggles & chortles.

That's my son...

Twenty months old and already pulling the birds! Good thing modern nappies deter little people from playing doctor too early :-) What were they giggling about? Brae's not saying...