Land For Sale

We ran out of money last week. At least until pay day on the first of the month. You would think that getting through ONE week with no money would be do-able. But it's growing increasingly difficult considering the fact that I have no bread for school lunches, no milk for cereal, no laundry detergent to wash clothes, no food for the dog. This is what we get for going on vacation, knowing that school was strarting this month, knowing that the school supplies and the school uniforms and all the back-to-school STUFF was going to nickel and dime us to death.

The last time I felt this hard-up for money was when I was a struggling college student, scraping up pennies to fill my gas tank.

It's not that we are desolate by any means. It's just that we have gotten into the bad habit of living paycheck to paycheck, and not re-adjusting our standard of living. I always blame the land payment in Tennessee.

We own this big chunk of land, I think 40 acres more or less, in the middle of nowhere. I've only been there a couple of times, and to be honest, what I remember most is a lot of overgrown brush and mud. There are rolling hills, an old homesite that was once Mitch's grandparents home, some remnants of peach and apple orchards, a smallish fishing pond, and a view of the Smoky Mountains.

Financial people have always told us that land is the best investment. Maybe they're right. Maybe some day we'll be happy for this chunk of country away from civilization. But right now, it's just another monthly payment that kills us.

Once upon a time Mitch and I dreamed of building a large home there. We were going to get us some cows to keep the brush down, maybe a few horses for the kids to ride. A couple of ducks in the pond. I'd pick peaches by the bushell and bake homemade pies and set them out in the windowsill to cool. At night, we'd sit on our wrap-around porch and listen to the night sounds of the beautiful Tennessee country. We'd have coon hounds and Mitch would go fishing and hunting with our sons. I'd teach my daughters how to can the pole beans we'd grow in our garden, and make strawberry cobbler.

Of course, this was a dream we had before any of our kids were born and reality hit us. Kids have to go to school. Life is not like Little House on the Prairie. And my mother in law lives less than a half hour away. That quickly turned our little "dream" into a "nightmare" for me.

You would think it would be easy to sell our land. After all, it is appraised for twice as much as we owe on it. And we'd be willing to sell it for what we owe, just to get rid of the payment. But there is not one single realtor in all of East Tennessee who is even willing to help us try.

I am so frustrated every time I think about it. Every time it's the last week of the month and we are struggling just to put gas in the tank, I blame the land in Tennessee. I know it's my fault for not budgeting better, for not giving up the things I enjoy, for not cooking American Chop Suey for dinner like my mom did when we were kids instead of shrimp penne with sundried tomatoes and artichokes.

The only thing I can figure is that there is a reason why we are burdened with this land. There is a reason why we are not supposed to sell it. Maybe it's Mitch's Pappaw Barney's ghost, looking down at the home he loved, unwilling to part with it.

Let it go, Pappaw Barney.

If anyone is interested in abandoning civilization and building a home way out in East Cuttybumfuck, Tennessee....I know of 40 acres for sale. Spread the word my friends.