UP A TREE WITHOUT A LADDER...

Anyone who has visited the ranch has had the chance to see the big tree stump sitting in the middle of one of the pastures. The Challenge goes out to all 'comers' on the next visit...to get to the top of the stump like Will, Tom and Jon...and no, you don't get extra credit for picking flowers like Jordan. What I am going to share has nothing to do with this picture...OK...there is a remote connection...but knowing how visual some of you are, I thought I would throw it in there for interest.

I always knew I'd make it someday.

Sure, the scoffers scoffed and the naysayers said “nay.” They cancelled my subscription to Premium Cigar & Cognac Digest just because I couldn’t pay the bill. They wouldn’t let me dock my 18’ Sea Ray at their fancy-pants marina. They laughed at the fake swooshes Sharpied onto my Budget Pro sneakers. I read The Course of Miracles, and learned to stomp around the deep grass looking for my golf balls and schmooze the best of them. The Brass Ring was just ahead, just around the bend, maybe around another corner...and on and on it went as I amassed all these 'things' that needed my attention to detail while my indifferent life clock ticked on.

Through it all, somewhere deep in my desperate little heart, I kept the dream alive. And now the time has come to take hold of the luxury I've always worked to deserve. Most importantly, people are often favorably impressed that a schlub like me was able to get my carpel tunneled hands on a real Log Home surrounded by wilderness and spiritual retreat. Of course, that is a view from the outside looking in, but the struggle becomes how to stop being on the inside looking out these days.

I can hear myself asking now: “That’s all fine and dandy, but does that mean I can actually unchain myself from a 19" monitor and ten 3' piles of papers surrounding me all screaming at once 'look at me' 'I'm important' 'don't forget me!' Is it ever going to actually be possible to get out of this 8 by 10 space long enough to peek outside and truly enjoy it all?"

I'm beginning to have grave doubts about that. I know, I know, you are probably thinking 'O, ye of little faith', but be that as it may, the 'dream' seems as elusive as ever lately and with so many hard balls in the air, I'm convinced they are all going to come crashing down on my head any minute now...and come to think of it, that might prove to be some relief.

You'd think after 25 years in the Real Estate and Mortgage business I could hang up my 1003's and credit reports and maybe never have to look at an appraisal again for the rest of my life. After all, I have a left brained daughter counting beans in Visalia for me, and a son in law that makes Barney look unfriendly taking good care of the Real Estate business.

Unfortunately, the biz never changes even when people do...so it is like a roller coaster. The income pours in like a monsoon one month, and for the next month or two I feel like Mother Hubbard holding nothing but a bone while surrounded by ten starving dogs who wouldn't think twice about making a meal of me.

So how in the hell did I get myself into doing a bunch of Loans so strange they could make it into Ripley's Believe It or Not of Lending. I'm trying to do loans without a fax machine because with one lonely phone line coming in to this 'home office' our callers complain when they hear the sound of 'fingers on the blackboard' in stero like all fax machines make. The good news is that no one messes with my computer anymore because all the letters on the keys have disappeared.

Looking back over the past three years is often a blur of activity so intense it feels like this old car has been filled with jet fuel, fired up, and then had the cogwheel bolted to the floor! It started with the Beach house which we realized was really a tear down when we were half way through rebuilding it. At first it was kind of nice to own because the family and friends could come visit and have cute and comfortable digs at the Beach. Then we turned it into a vacation rental...so it slumbers most of the winter and wakes up at the first glow of sunlight. Now it it like running a motel with people coming and going every few days, and I have to run over to greet them so often I feel like a guide on a tour bus through Beverly Hills pointing out the heating system, stock items and chairs to take to the beach...I am a economic development committee for the local business here as I recommend the Aquarium, the Science Center, Nye Beach and all the rest of the nooks and crannies I've fallen into by mistake since planting my ass here.

Terror strikes when I have people leaving on the same day others are coming in as I worry that I might be sweating blood shoveling garbage out the back door as the doorbell rings in the front while new guests stand there smiling with suitcases in hand. It hasn't happened yet, but it could.

Allen had to have a big shop for his countless treasures so we bought a home that 'we could make work' on Skyline drive immediately after wrapping up the Beach remodel, and proceeded to tear that house apart and rebuild it..and then we sold Howard in Visalia after selling one Jacob property and buying another with Lindsays proceeds that needed a little fixing up. While flying down the Skyline Stairs I broke my ankle, and a few months later Allen really doozied his up and crushed his leg having some sort of weird spell which prevented us from packing our own house up to make the big final move to Oregon. Friends (paid and unpaid) packed the boxes as best they could...but plates ended up with socks, and soup ladels rested next to printer ink. There are still about twenty or thirty unpacked boxes probably growing mold in the gray barn now...and I keep promising myself I'll get to them soon.

Yesterday, we celebrated without realizing it...our one year anniversary of owning this ranch...but Skyline is still ours too and is still for sale, only recently I broke down a listed it with local realtor. We were forced into buying a little sows ear that we are selling as a silk purse but we didn't get a breather from the total remodel on this Log Home as well. Of course, in order to sell the little sow's ear to silk purse house, I have to do the Loan for the buyers...and desperately need the money because we have an offer in on another little sow that has to close by August 1st.

In the meantime, as the reserves are steadily dwindling into dust with every passing month...Allen's heart goes on the blink (literally) so he has to have a battery put in and six weeks of 'convalesence'...while I write rent checks on 'his dream turned nightmare' because we have a million 'biker things' sitting in a retail store that hasn't really been open since last August! All the while people keep asking, "What are you going to do, are you going to open another store...?" I say I don't know because I don't want to deal with the thought of further 'entombment' beyond what I am experiencing now. I also don't want to admit that we now have a lower shop filled with thousands upon thousands of dollars worth of 'stuff' we will probably get to as well as we're getting to opening those boxes we moved from Visalia two years ago.

So Fayes 'helper quit' because she has a bum neck and looking down while curling Faye's hair puts her to bed rest for a day or two after working here...and I can't find all the insurance papers I need to file a claim to get full time help...so now I am box digging and my bedroom looks like it belong to the most slovenly teenager in the History of America....but I can't keep on task...because...

...there are two more nightmare loans that will detonate into balls of mass destruction if they are not funded yesterday...and each one contains one mystery after another...and happenings so strange...what was I saying about Ripley's anyway? So with bills coming in from four properties, a ton of remodel work, oh...and Allen's recent head on collision with damage so borderline it took nearly six weeks for the insurance company to decide whether to fix it or total it out. It's fixed now...but there is this funny noise. Oh well, later on that too...just like the bent up red ATV that seems to slipping gears, and the flat tied go kart, and let's not even mention the lawnmower sitting in the road today with it's tire hanging off.

...and for my extra pleasure...I am pretty much the only one on point for the Central Coast Charity Riders Annual "ADventure Run 4 Kids" slated for July 22...and yes, I do mean three weeks from now. It may sound cruel, but when Faye eagerly asks "did I get any mail?" while I am dragging in a load of it that looks like Santa's toy satchel and am about ready to just heave it up to the second floor to look at later...I feel like taking a big swing at her head.

This is not the retirement life I had in mind by a long shot. This is not the pinnicle of success I envisioned, this is not the long awaited moment in the sun strolling the pristine beaches and visiting the quaint botiques I foretold as wonderful adventures to find just the right 'knick knack' for a little corner in the kitchen.

Hell, it wouldn't matter to me right now if I had to use a shoulder to move a mammoth dustball aside so I could squeeze into the kitchen rather than take the time to get rid of it...and laundry? I am not doing that lately until I am down to my last pair of underwear and that stupid voice comes into my head "Always wear clean underwear cause you might get in an accident...".

It's times like these that I really long to be one of our dogs instead of me...and it is so bad now that I am looking at them with considerable sibling rivalry and envy. Lucky bastards, I think.

I do have to break down and go grocery shopping because everyone around here wants to eat, dammit, and you can imagine my feelings of joy to suddenly discover the latch that holds the thousand pound rear hatch open is broken a few days ago! O Vey!

My office set up is primitive, and whatever is in the drawers now is a complete mystery, so I start hauling out things I haven't looked at in three years wondering what kind of moron would save this crap in the first place...and I start these stupid tasks because I have 100 envelopes to open and I can't find my letter opener. Finally, in complete disgust...especially if I actually do find the letter opener...I shove it all back into the drawers even more unorganized than it was originally so I can make space for the new onslaught of paperwork begging my attention.

I stooped to even buying a huge blue storage bin to put next to my desk for more important 'stuff' I really have to look at later...especially those love letters from IRS inquiring into my last three years tax returns I haven't sent in yet...mostly because I have all those boxes still unpacked from the last three years just chock full of receipts, closing statements, travel expenses and God knows what else...and because the losses have been so extensive I dont owe them a damned thing...but the letters are kinda scary and in the back of my head warning...'Don't screw with Uncle Sam...cause he can getcha"....but there are some bright moments that invade my hell hole of sun deprivation here and there.

Recently, my Grandson moved in with us and today we finally got our Computer Guru out to the house to set up the wireless internet system for all the computers in the house...(thank God for Satellite)...so now his own digs are complete. We have a good time and he is always willing to help in any way he can...and there is one way he helps me better than all the rest...

"Tommy, can you bring Gramma a cup of coffee?" Somehow when he climbs those stairs with a fresh cup of coffee with a smile and no complaints, I feel like I just received an important Blessing....and for that moment...that little time warp between sleep and balls to the walls blood sweat and tears...I sit back and take a long, relaxing slug of that java juice and breathe out a big sigh. Sometimes I take it out to by back deck and smell that clean air...and marvel at those green trees...and just then I understand a little better what heaven must be like.

...and I think, "Yes, I surely will deserve to really 'retire' someday, but it appears that I will have to keel over dead to do it." and then I will know that I have finally...Arrived.