Well, I’ve figured it out. The point of life, the universe, and everything: making my house and property nice enough that Roby wants to, if not stay here, come back to raise her family here. 

That’s it, that’s the whole point. It works because it isn’t just about accruing wealth or fancy things. It’s not as though a swimming pool will convince her to move back from 2040s New York City and all of the awesome water taxi and house-boat parties they’ll be having there. They’ll have plenty of places to swim.

It’s about making a place that’s nice. Really nice.

That means nice places to be, nice things to do, nice people to see and spend time with, nice food to eat, nice projects to do, it has got to be nice.

I can feel it getting nicer all the time. I’ve upgraded the tree supports, there’s the wood shed to consider, and I’ve got another wood shed in the works, too. I’m quite excited to think about what this place could be in twenty years time, or even ten, or just five, or heck, I’d like to build a deck next summer. 

The finest thing will be once she can be involved I think. I cannot even fathom the insight she’ll bring, and the passion and the fun. 

Even now, before she’s had much in the way of opinions she’s improved the place. There’s toys everywhere and I put in a swing on the locust tree, vastly improved simply with that.