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looking at land

Saturday, April 10th, 2010 by

We had promised ourselves this weekend “off,” to maybe drive down to Pinehurst and Southern Pines, see some sights, play tourist and take it easy. Knowing the week ahead of us would be busy and stress-filled, we’d agreed to plan some down time particularly for the day after the loooooooong flight.

As it turned out, though, our realtor—Linda—wanted to show us some pieces of land, and what the heck; let’s do it, right?

So off we go.

She met us in the lobby of the Residence Inn, punctual as usual. When we walked out to find her, she sat at a couch facing the desk—we were walking up on her from behind—and she was reading the paper. I noticed how perfectly her hair was done. She’d gotten a nice cut since the last time we saw her, looked really good.

As always, she was smiling. There isn’t a bone of meanness in her, but if that had been me (knowing the day ahead), the smile would have had a curl of mischief.

We spent a long day looking at land. Have you ever just gone out and looked at land? After a while, you find ways to entertain yourself about it, comparing the trees (these are taller than on that other lot), the ground underfoot (more bumps and holes), the sounds (can you hear that road noise?) and the color of the sky from here.

We saw flat land and hilly land, rocky land and sandy land. Land with clearings and driveways already on it, land with no sign of any human being ever setting foot there. As it turned out later, we even saw land owned (or once owned) by a dog-breeder who may have supplied Michael Vick with his fighting animals.

Linda is a wonderful, sweet person with some serious scruples. She won’t lie, I can tell by the silences she leaves when a question might force her to. But she also won’t say anything bad about anybody, and I have great respect for her principles. Her car shows how hard she works, and is built for durability more than comfort.  So the day, covering some serious mileage in and around Chapel Hill and Durham, was tiring. Still we saw some good potential locations for A House Named Fred, and knew she’d figured us out—she got what we wanted and was helping us find a new home.

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