Life at № 42
The white camellias are now in full bloom and what a show it is (for a sense of scale, compare to the chair at the bottom right of the first picture.) The red and pink varieties are starting to open as well- but mostly visible from the street which is seriously annoying. I should charge people who walk on the sidewalk around our wall for the privilege.
I’ve planted some more heather on the east wall by the birdbath, red this time.
Business has been on my mind quite a lot lately. People seem very excited at the prospect of the new motorway. The money for it has been approved and set aside. Apparently there are already some big companies (French & Spanish) buying land in the area. We also heard another of the important homes in town has been sold.
I’ve been considering the possibility of putting building II on the market once it’s done. I have a feeling it would sell very easily. The set-up makes it an ideal retirement property for someone who wants to live in the ground floor loft apartment with the private garden and boost their income with the rental of the six other flats.
Mike hates the idea because it actually means we’d be rolling the money into a new bigger project. He thinks we have a perfectly comfortable life as it is and we don’t really need to make our lives all about making money. I know he’s technically right. He put it in terribly blunt terms: I’ll live another 20 or so years at best; you might live another 35, also at best. How much more do we actually need? How very cheerful!
I don’t know how much one actually needs. Anyway, I’m reasonably certain we’re beyond the point of actually needing anything. I suppose some of us just grow up embracing the notion that more is better even if we don’t actually need anything more. Being an adult is tiresome. How is anyone supposed to know what to do and how to make these big decisions?