For what it's worth

Spent an hour or so last week having a face-to-face with a family friend who's been in the real estate biz forever. I'd requested the sit-down because I'd been thinking about some concerns my mother had brought up, like wouldn't it be a great idea to sell Falling Downs and move to Guelph to be closer to family. Ya, I know my folks have been in the biz forever too, but this gal comes from the other side. Which in no way rules out the possibility she could be in cahoots with my dear Mom! Anyway, due to my various old-fucker-about-to-croak medical issues I've been diagnosed with, there seems to be pressure building that I should slow down, scale back, simplify my life, and move into a wheelchair-accessable abode. I'm quite OK with most of that. What's not to like about slowing down and scaling back? Count me in! But inevitabley, these conversations turn to the what it's worth question, and I gotta say these real estate folks really toss around some impressive numbers. Apparently the joint has gone up 250% in the twenty years since I bought it! I'm a millionaire! Great! I can cash in and trade my hundred acres of peace, quiet, tranquility, and good neighbours for a condo in town! Oh ya baby, I'll get right on that! Or maybe not; not just yet, anyway. And while it's true enough that such a move would provide the second bathroom we lack here at Falling Downs, that hardly seems an adequate incentive to move into town. For what it's worth, I'm content to pee off the porch while gazing at the stars, with the coyote choir providing the sound-track, for as long as I can get to the stoop without a wheelchair ramp!