How I got to California

Well, it is a long story, but simply put for the benefit of those interested, here it is:
In early December 2006, I got a call from my sister that my Mom was not doing well. Indeed she wasn't. She has had a history of heart/blood pressure problems complicated at times with difficulty in breathing. This time it was pretty serious. It was everyone's sense that she was on her way out. Part of all the considerations as well, was the looming prospect of having to do something to free my Mom of the burden of taking care of her house, the one that she had lived in for fifty years and where most of the four kids had grown up. The upshot was that it would be a very auspicious time for me to go out to California. I could both see my Mother and help with the final decision of getting her house up for sale.

My Mother is a scrapper, and came through the whole thing noticeably weakened, but still going strong. In fact, today, she is for the most part back on track and doing as well as can be expected, and in general good health for someone in their eighties.

In the mean time, the decision to sell the house involved me here in a project that grew way beyond my original intent of just painting the interior and going home to Canada. There was a lot in disrepair that had to be addressed in order just to get the house on the market. It became an all or nothing decision that rested on the fact that the house is my Mom's nest egg and we all wanted her to get the very most out of it that she could.

The research and advice we got indicated that any money put into the house would at the very least be returned at double the investment as far as reasonable upgrades were concerned. They would also make the house far more attractive to any prospective buyer, even one who might want to remodel.

The only point of contention in all this was my brother's room that he had occupied some years ago and made into his art studio. It is a small bedroom in the back of the house. He had, very competently, I might add, textured and painted the walls and ceiling to look like stone. He had also added faux 6x6 wooden beams to the corners and across the ceiling. The base board, window, and door frames matched as well. This configuration was very controversial to the real estate agents who insisted that it should be made into a plain bedroom again. At first we agreed. However, as the various contractors, visitors, etc, came through for whatever reason, it turned out that without exception this "cave room" was a hit. The consensus became this: that the room ought to stay as is for the potential buyer who wools like it this way for a child or whatever, and if they didn't like it but wanted the house, we could easily enough get it changed over within the escrow period. This made sense, as there is other work that will be done then as well.
Suffice it to say, then, that in the midst of all this it became obvious that it would be a great advantage to Mom's interest if there was someone on site who could deal with the exigencies of the renovations. Because I was a family member and could be trusted to deal with the large amount of personal belongings yet here from several of us, and because of my extensive experience in renovations and additions, I was the obvious choice to be that one. Mom's health, being compromised, put her out of that role, what with so much construction activity scheduled. As for my other sibs, they were enmeshed in work and family matters. I, being an independent sub contractor for a GC in Ontario, was the only one with the necessary skills mobile enough to fill the bill.

So, here I am. One VERY distinct joy of that is that I am NOT in the snow and ice of that Ontarian Winter. I am here enjoying some very good weather. There are blossoming orchids, quince, and lush torolosa pines right out the window as I type this. The sun is shining and it is warm. Am I happy to have that? Considering the Northern alternative, I am overjoyed.
Do I miss my friends? Very much. A few in particular. But in this case, I feel I have no choice but to do this. Other considerations, including some continuing concerns surrounding my Mother, will keep me here as a resident for some time at least. I will continue my application for "independent business man" status in Canada from here, as that is a promising opportunity. It has long been a wish of mine to be there for the loveliness of the seasons that are lovely, and AWAY from the season that is white and shivery.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. I am sorry to miss my friends, but life deals cards and you have to play them as best you can. It is, after all, a learning experience. It very certainly has been that for me in Canada. I worked for and was often in the Presence of, in my estimation, one of the most remarkable individuals on the planet, perhaps ever, that being Dr. Mills. What a timeless and priceless legacy that is for me, too large even for me to feel in its entirety. And the gift of being with all to the precious friends up there, of whom I was blessed with many. So if anything, I feel that I am carrying an immense blessing into a new land, and am the beneficiary of a remarkable legacy that I can discover by its sharing. That has to be good.