Wednesday, January 13, 2016

It was still dark Tuesday morning when I loaded Wags into Buster and drove to the low bluff overlooking a nearby beach. It was stormy and winds howling, but my plan was to make some coffee and watch the water break against the shore and the clouds race across the sky.

As the sky lightened from black to grey, the rain stopped and I could sit outside despite the wind. Sliding open the door Wags jumped down to take care of business and I set the beach chair on the ground with a thermos next to it. Mug in hand I settled into the chair as Wags jumped back in the van. No fool he, no reason to lay on the wet ground when a dry carpet is available.

I watched the water, large pounding surf, greater than 3 meters crashed against the shore like a washing machine on the agitate cycle. The sky was leaden, but far to the west there were small breaks where the sun shined through.

I began contemplating my navel, more specifically how I would survive this financially till I could truly work. I'm not in danger of being destitute, while I don't think of myself as wealthy, I have a strong asset base from the sale of the business, an inheritance from my grandfather and gains from some past investments. I can survive for quite a while by drawing those down. When I sold the company I tucked away a year's expenses, but haven't touched it. I've been comfortable on a part-time salary from the REIT, some consulting and gains from day trading stock and currency. Whatever came from gentleman was the froth on the coffee.

A few months ago I was here contemplating the same issues, but the options were different. I was in the early stages of launching a new business and was actively seeking investors, gaining Francis' interest gave me the resources to launch, but now that won't happen, at least not for a while. I feel guilty about taking a salary from the REIT, though my partners believe that I'm foolish if I don't. I can't trust myself to day trade, I'm no perceptive enough. It will work out when I get healthy.

Wags jumped down to check something in the bushes, satisfied he looked back at me with the look that says lets go for a walk. He took a step toward the path to the beach and then turned back to look at me, going down to the play position as if to say lets go lazy bones. So we did.

This morning I drove back to Paris. It was tiring, but I felt heartened when I arrived at Buster's garage and a couple of the fellows who store cars there came over to wish me well. News travels fast in a small community.



Anonymous Anonymous said...

XOXOX ~ AthenaNY

7:18 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

you still alive sexy?

6:36 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hoping you are o.k. You are such a gifted writer. Looking forward to reading more of your writing, perhaps a book?

2:28 PM  

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