My brother and I are kicking around a crazy idea of maybe buying up a mess of land out in the center of the middle of nowhere and making it into a family getaway/off-grid/wildlife sanctuary. Gomez and I had talked about it off and on. Not to move to full-time. Just to have and visit.
On accounta there's tens of thousands of acres for really cheap out West Texas way.
It's cheap because no one wants to live there. It's desert and canyons and tumbleweeds and shit, but the stars at night shine big and bright (ya'll Texans know what to do here).
I found a particularly diverse piece, meaning it's not flat as the surface of the moon, and has a tree. A small gnarled, crabby-looking tree.
What nailed it for me was the mention of critters living there. Now, all of the tracts out yonder mention what critters live there, because 99% of those parcels are sold as hunting land. Most all of them will have mule deer, some whitetail deer, some aoudad, and, depending on elevation, maybe an elk or three. They also mention furbearers and predators, like the regular cast of raccoons and possums, plus some bobcats, coyotes, and cougars.
This one mentions...ringtail cats.
Not on the endangered list, yet, these little guys are still elusive and scarce.
Yes, please. I'd like a Ringtail Cat Sanctuary.
So, I messaged the realtor through the website, as directed the week before Christmas.
Nothing.
After Christmas, I emailed him *and* left him a phone message.
Nothing.
In talking to my brother about my frustration, I said, "I'll bet it's because I'm a chick" and he said, "Want me to call him?" SURE. LET ME KNOW HOW THAT GOES.
TEN FUCKING MINUTES LATER, my brother sends me all laughing emojis and says that the guy messaged him right back. He said, "Want me to call him?" and I said, "OH, NO. LET ME."
My brother: "We're not getting that land, are we?"
I told him not to be silly. We would get the land, and I'd bury the realtor on it :)
So, I called the agent. He did answer, but it sounded like he hadn't meant to. We all know what that sounds like because we all do it sometimes. The "oh shit why did I answer that?" answer.
I mentioned my THREE attempts at contacting him, and how he responded to my brother within minutes, and he hemmed and hawed about how oh my goodness gracious I usually answer within 12 hours I have no idea how that could have happened, and I stopped him and asked, "So. It's not because I'm a chick and not a big burly hunter-type guy?" and he assured me it was not.
I said, "Because I've been here in Texas for 30 years, and it always seems like when it's something like dealing with cars (repair or purchase) or contractors or sales reps at work, 9 out of 10 times, the men I'm talking to infer that maybe it would be better if they talked to my boss or my husband or basically anyone around who possessed a penis, and it's very annoying since I'm the one who was the boss at work and I'm the one who does most of the repair/construction around the farm and who deals with the contractors and knows what's what and my way around a Home Depot."
Young Mr. Realtor apologized all over again and asked what parcel we were looking at, and we had a nice chat. He sent me more links to other tracts, and I said my brother would fly down and we'd take a look at a few in the next month or so. And after all that, he asks...
"Will you be coming with him?"
Oh. Oh, Sonny Boy.
I let his question just sit in the air for a minute.
After an uncomfortable pause, he sheepishly said, "Of course you're coming with him."
Yes indeedy.
I asked him if I could expect replies from him, and he said, "Yes, ma'am! I have your number saved in my phone, now, and I'll *never* forget this conversation."
Anyhoo.
Stay tuned for updates.
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