I’m not opposed to change. I think I have by this time figured out that it’s part of life, and not always predictable. I’ve learned to willingly adapt to change, to shift my priorities and efforts towards whatever new direction lies ahead as a result. But doing so takes time, me being a plodder and all, and I prefer not to be interrupted by more change before I’ve finished responding to the first wave.
So the latest news from the farm is actually a blessing, but it left me shaking my head for a couple of days, amazed how things can shift so quickly.
The folks called Friday last week, a month since they’d first dropped the bombshell about wanting to move to Norman, Oklahoma where their daughters and grandchildren live, to ask if it would be ok for them to stay put, instead. They have changed their minds, and decided they wouldn’t be happy there. At least for the time being.
We could have told them that, but it wasn’t our place. They figured it out themselves, at their own pace.
All the reasons why we thought it would be unworkable for them came tumbling out as they talked over each other on the phone: they can’t find the kind of place they are looking to buy in that area; the dogs, used to roaming the mountain, would have to live in a tiny back yard; they don’t like the kind of people there, there’s not enough open, “country” space, and Bobby would get bored not having anything to do outside; and they like their Kentucky doctors, like living in Kentucky. Dear old Bobby must have said “I just wouldn’t be happy there” at least 10 times during the fifteen-minute call.
Well hello, McFly. After driving 13 hours back from their Oklahoma visit, Bobby toted the luggage in the house then hopped onto the Toro mower for a couple of hours to mow the grass, which wasn’t overgrown by any means. He just couldn’t sit still.
Precipitating this latest change, as it turns out, was the renewed possibility of their buying the little property down the road, since the property line issue that had derailed the purchase has finally been resolved and the current owner still needs to sell it to finance the new house he’s already broken ground for. Now that the property isn’t listed, he and Bobby are discussing terms between themselves, and if he’ll let it go at the same price (he had to buy back the front yard from the state road department as a result of the survey), Bobby and Alene want to go ahead with their plans to buy the place and fix it up a bit at a time while living in the little farmhouse at Bear and Thistle.
They were worried we’d already made arrangements to have someone move in immediately, and wouldn’t be able to accomodate their request. But we hadn’t, so it was easy to say yes of course, you’re more than welcome to stay on. They were relieved to hear that and of course we’re relieved, too. It’s much better to have them there.
We will go ahead with installing the alarm system and a few motion-activated security lights, and I will gate and fence the driveways and as much of the road edge as possible on our September visit. We don’t need to make it Fort Knox, but I’ve put too much planning and resources into that initiative to turn it off at this point, and it will make the place more secure even with them there. So they’ll not see the woodstove installed for their benefit this winter, and perhaps not the next, for having zig-zagged course and forcing me to change our working plans to adapt to the possibility of having to leave the place unoccupied.
But they are lucky to have had the flexibility to try their idea on and, finding it not fitting, go back to the original arrangement. And we’re fortunate they changed their minds, though I have no idea how long they’ll want to stay, or if they’ll change their minds again soon, or if their plan to buy the little house down the road will work out.
I hope it does.
Thistledog's Farm 