The Buyers

Sons,
I woke up this morning with a stomach ache. The same stomach ache I have every morning. It's worse lately. I went back to bed, slept in till almost eleven o'clock, maybe later. I don't know what time it was, really, when I got up to make coffee and start a fire. I stepped outside to grab a little kindling; it was then I thought I heard someone call "hellooooo".
I even called "hellooooooo" back, but hearing no reply, and having collected the kindling, I went back inside to start the morning routine.
I even chuckled at myself; hearing voices.
I do have visitors. This month alone there were the Canadian Honkers, The wild Turkey, Grey Mule deer daily, and everybody whom drives by for the first time will take pictures, or stop to admire the shack. I might start taking pictures of the people taking pictures. And I've been to the city in the valley where the two rivers meet twice in May, and up to Oregon city (by Portland) visiting this month. I'm not lonely enough to be hearing voices.
But there it was again..."helloooooooo".
This time when I looked up, there they were; two women standing in the driveway, looking at the glass shack, cooing "helloooooooo", and probably wondering if there was life behind the mirrors.
COMPANY!
I could hardly get my shoes on fast enough. I recognized them. Potential BUYERS.
(Who the hell else could they be? I'm not exactly in the right area for a neighborhood stroll, unless you're a bear, and I can't remember the last time a damsel in distress didn't smell of liquor or worse. On the fringe of the wilderness, here, it's worse. No, they were looking for property; they had the mannerisms of not wanting to intrude, but being curious. The younger hung back a little as they approached, uncertain if they would be welcome (WELCOME? They were invited to breakfast!).
After exchanging introductions, we talked about southern Oregon, and myself, and the weather here, etc (of course, as you are aware, I can talk). One of the ladies asked me why I was selling. I replied, only half honestly, because I don't have any idea where the next adventure takes me. "I was thinking of going to China to teach English."
And then the MAGIC started. One has to be careful with MAGIC. The main ingredient is Illusion. The younger women replied, "Oh, I just graduated from the University of Southern California. My major was Chinese-Mandarin. My mom taught English in Taiwan.
Speaking Chinese, I asked if she spoke Mandarin, when she replied in Mandarin it was like the lightening bolt. I invited them in.
(It is often noted by those who have studied a foreign language, the difference it makes breaking down barriers, when you speak another’s language. I.e. entering a shop in Chinatown San Francisco, or a Chinese owned shop in London, The moment I speak Chinese everything changes; I'm a friend, we have something in common. I'm looked at, spoken to, treated entirely different then a common 'ugly American'. When the young woman spoke to me in Chinese, everything changed. We all seemed to relax; it was no longer ‘business’. It was business with someone you like.
I showed them the inside of the house. I told them stories. We talked about what they were looking for in land and purpose. I talked too much, listened too little. I enjoyed their company immensely. After seeing the house, and politely keeping me company, the ladies asked to see the springs. We hiked the hill and saw the springs. I never shut up, and they never seemed bored. I had fun.
When I looked at my watch after walking them out the gate, it was 4:30. By my estimate those ladies had spent 4 hours visiting with me. It was no wonder their ears were turning blue when they left. I hope they enjoyed themselves as mush as I did.
But now, the analysis.
Being who I am, I had to consider: what are the chances of two Mandarin speaking, American born, round eyed women, showing up at my property as potential buyers? Just being potential buyers weans the numbers way down, and drives the odds conversely up. And speaking Chinese as a second language too? Lastly, how did four hours go by? Maybe they found the circumstances as compelling as I did. That's doubtful, and I love to talk.
The whole thing was MAGICAL. Unexplainable. Illusion: I should be so interesting, they should be so interested. Like the THUNDERBOLT. I had fun, but never forget, "the male ego can make anything reality" and so I have to wonder, and considering the odds, I must ask, who were they really? Is the world really that small? Oh well, another day in southern Oregon, but this one escaped much too quickly.