Village Squire, 1975-10, Page 29The land
The pull of the land
is strong...but then
so is the pull of cash
BY RON SHAW
The small gathering broke into a rowdy version of "Happy
Birthday" as the cake, complete with sputtering candles, was
carried in from the kitchen.
A light summer breeze penetrating the screen door threatened
to extinguish the tiny flames but they somehow clung to life until
Alex McLaren drew a deep breath and blew them out in one
mighty gust.
The somewhat off-key version of the traditional birthday wish
ended in enthusiastic applause. "There's only seven candles",
the old man observed, his eyes twinkling.
"At your age there isn't enough room for 'em all," his wife
said handing him a cake knife. "In your case one candle
represents 10 years."
Alex began to cut the cake.
It was a happy occasion for him It happened less often each
year that his family was together at one time and it was a good
feeling to have them all around the dining room table. Just like in
the old days...except they were all grown now.
J im, his oldest, was nearly 40 now and had a family of his own.
It's too bad the grandchildren weren't here too, he thought.
Jeniffer, a few years younger, was engaged now and soon his
family would grow even larger. Ken wasn't married yet either but
one of these days he'd probably be starting a family as well. With
the cake all but eaten the group retired to the porch for coffee.
Taking a seat on the railing, with the agility of a much younger
man, Alex sipped his coffee and stared into the starry night.
After the big meal everyone seemed drowsy. The silent night
punctuated by only crickets and the squeak of the porch swing.
"What do you suppose this place is worth?" Alex asked,
breaking the stillness but continuing to stare skyward.
There was a long silence. Finally Ken spoke.
"You mean to sell? Were you thinking of selling the farm?"
"You never mentioned retiring before," Jeniffer added.
The old man turned toward his family. "I didn't say anything
about retiring, I just asked how much you think the place is
worth?"
"I don't know," Ken mused, "quite a bit I suppose. Why do
you ask though?"
Alex turned his eyes back to the sky.
"A city fella came by here last week. Said he'd give me one
hundred thousand dollars for the land and buildings. Said he
didn't want the stock or machinery and that I could have
whatever I could sell them for."
"He wan a fancy dressin' fella, drivin' a big car, and I think he
really meant what he said."
"What did you tell Him Dad?" Jeniffer asked.
"Didn't tell him anything really," her father explained. "Just
said I'd have to think on it some."
"He left me his card. It says he's a lawyer from Toronto."
Jeniffer turned to her mother. "What do you think about all
this Mom? Do you think he should sell the farm?"
Although she knew the attitude went against her daughter's
grain Bess McLaren could only say what she really felt.
"Your father has always taken fine care of me, and his family,
and whatever he decides is fine by me."
"Mother! This is your home too, you must have an opinion of
your own," Jeniffer responded irratably.
"Now Jenny I know how you feel but that: s the way I want it",
she explained in her usual calm, firm manner. "And that's the
way it will be decided."
"Well Dad," Jim shrugged, "I know you would have liked Ken
or I to take over from you but that's not the way things worked
out. Land's worth a lot these days but even so that's a top price
you've been offered, and I think Mom's right...you're going to
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VILLAGE SQUIRE/OCTOBER 1975,