It seems we were on the wrong land entirely. Mr. Kelleher, the estate agent, took us out today to see the real place, and the man who's selling it. And this piece, it turns out, is even more perfect than the other. Lots of road frontage on two sides shielded by tall hedgerows, and a couple of cattle gates. They haven't grazed it in awhile, so the grass is high and wild and wet. Perfect view of the lake and the hills and the shadows of the mountains. Nothing else. You climb the hill in the tall grass and can see a reforested area behind the lake. Through a gap in more hedgerows is a wide, wide field. Lots of yellow buttercups, some foxglove and some shrubby growth. It has such character.
If I were planning to build a house, there's the perfect spot. Instead I'm thinking while I'm walking of planting trees--they give you a grant to do so here. And leasing some of it to a farmer for grazing.
We walk and talk, and I keep looking around at the hills, down to the lake, out to the thick forest.
Back standing on the road again, we get down to the business of the thing.
Land's appreciated dramatically here in the last couple years, and I've done enough research to know it. This area's restricted. Without permission and re-zoning and so on, you can't plant rental houses. You can, if you own enough, plant your own house, but that's it. This is precisely what I'm after. The road leading in in one of those narrow deals where you can only pass another car if you pull up tight to the hedgerows. We were there an hour and never saw another car.
James, as it turns out, is the owner's accountant. It's Patty we meet and Patty who owns the land. He owns parcels here and there as he's a builder, but getting planning on this piece is a problem--plus his soon to be ex-wife lives just across the road in the house and on the land she got in the settlement. He wants to sell, but he's shrewd enough to know he's got a little treasure there.
We negotiate. He wants this for it and am I willing to do that. I'm willing to do that, but for this amount, I say. He ponders, smokes, peers down at the ground. He'll have to think about it. I say he's welcome to.
We look out at the land some more and talk of other things--the old man who lives nearby, the fishing in the lake, the current state of affairs and so on. The agent wonders if I'd be willing to come up this much and Patty down that much. I ponder, and as it's precisely what I'd worked out in my head I'd pay, say I would. Patty ponders, and as I believe it's pretty much what he'd worked out in his head as well, he says he would.
We agree to meet on Sunday for lunch here at Dromoland to work out details, and shake hands on the deal on the road beside the land.
I believe I've just acquired 25 acres of Ireland. My own four green fields.
Nora
*Nora's & BW's pals, Ruth Ryan Langan and her dh, Tom
