Well, the house-inspector for the bank has been. He seemed impressed and should be. Finnegan’s Wake is probably worth twice what we’ve been able to sell it for. It’s remote and um, weird. It was build by Mr Murphy - a master cabinet maker so the woodwork is exquisite, it has 2 secret rooms, and is built in a spiral with all the walls curved. Everyone who sees it says ‘wow, it’s the perfect place for a sf/fantasy writer. It is. It’s also just too strange and remote for most people, which is why we could afford it - this does limit the number of people who want to buy it.
Anyway I also got a harsh dose of Reality knocking Dave butt over tea-kettle again. Duh I am stupid. I thought: "arrive in our new country in time for New Year. That’s neat and symbolic."
Now New year in Mooi River country districts is a bucolic, quiet, and sometimes hungover day with not much happening except Paddy’s birthday - which B and I thought was so wonderful and special being on New Year's day and all.
A friend sent me an e-mail pointing this out: "The Sydney to Hobart yacht race is finishing up in town, there's the Taste of Tasmania Festival and of course it's the middle of the summer high season."
Palpitations. I did experience a local crowd the other day. All five of us hastily moved away... Ok I may exaggerate just a fragment, but really I like relative isolation ;-) That’s why I am happy to go and live on an island with something like 0.46 people per square km. And besides it makes for expensive accommodation and lots of people (I am a people watcher. I concentrate and absorb a lot from them. I listen. If there are 4 conversations going on I listen to all of them. I absorb speech patterns and mannerisms. I need this to be an effective writer I think. But it means a big crowd is like a sea of white noise to me. I can handle it for a bit, but it’s not something I choose to do.)
Oh well. What is done is done. And reality wins by a TKO
See Dave get up again... So: how best to cope with this.