Zoom w a View: It’s the Kiwi in me

My mother dug into our family history and discovered that the blood flowing through our veins came from here, there and everywhere.

Though our blood is chiefly Scottish and English, it also contains links to Spain, which maybe explains why I’m so swarthy.

I think I’m related in some way to a New Zealander as well, because every time I see a lovely boat I think, I don’t ever want a cottage. Instead, I want a boat. I would dock it somewhere close to home and turn it into my ‘weekender.’

Years ago, while pursuing information about Shania Twain’s purchase of sheep stations in NZ (I was opposed, so spoke to the owner of the station Shania was about to buy), a Kiwi told me that every islander has a simple dream, and that is to own a wee bit of land (they have a name for it and I can’t recall it now) or a wee spot on which to park their tired behinds after a long work week.


["This could one day be my weekender": photo Jim or Lannie]

His words struck a chord in me, I felt we might be related, and knowing now I’ll never be able to afford a cottage without the help of Lotto 649, I keep my eye open for cheap boats of a certain size that are being discarded because the motors are shot.

I wouldn’t mind fixing up an old relic. I can do custom windows after all.

My sister saw the one above in PEI. I told her to buy it for me. I’m awaiting her reply.

***

If she swings the deal I’ll just pay her back later.

Come on Lotto 649!

Come to Papa.

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