Is my muse an old woman?

I hit the American Tobacco Trail yesterday for my morning walk, to plot my book, and think about some financial issues. When I got there, I thought I was alone, but as I entered the trail head, an elderly woman--pink sunglasses, pink skirt, white blouse, and pink walking shoes--greeted me with a chirpy, "Hello." Because I work alone in the house and see few people, anyone who even nods in my direction is libel to end up on the listening end of a ten minute conversation. She recognized that in me and started commenting on the beautiful weather we've been having lately, that she's a second cousin to Will Rogers, about her drive up from Naples, Florida where she's retired, and about someone who just built a $106M estate across the street from her.

"It's some guy name David Levy(?) , she said. "I think he's in the cable industry." She took off her sunglasses. "My family use to own this land." She waved her hand at the trail head grounds. "It was in my family since 1804. I still have the original deed to the first 100 acres. It's just up the road apiece. I come up for the summers. Florida's too warm."


I get along great with women under six and over sixty. She'd seen eighty "...many years ago...", she said and laughed. We talked for twenty minutes about the area. She knew where my house was. She commented on the incredible development going on (6000 housing units on 1400 acres just over the hill--less than two miles--from my house). She dissed the developers who pester her. "They even send me Christmas cards, but they aren't seeing a square inch while I'm alive." She said I was wise to buy my five acres in 1992 at $9K per acre.

"The last lot on my street sold two years ago for $45K per acre," I told her.

She smiled. "What a wonderful bargain," she commented. Her face got serious for a moment. "If those developers offer you $100K per acre, call the sheriff. You're being robbed."

All things financial clarified, my morning walk focused on plotting my current book.