What we love about our season here
Strolling through a medieval village a few miles from our home
This restaurant might be for you.
(Le Petit Fouet)
"The little whip"
The project
(The latest news)
Our monthly newsletter to family and friends (Michael's alternative to Facebook)
What we love about our season here
Strolling through a medieval village a few miles from our home
This restaurant might be for you.
(Le Petit Fouet)
"The little whip"
The project
(The latest news)
Wrapping up projects in California
Next was...
The start of a relaxing season in France
This is the property we finally bought next door to ours. No, not terribly large but it does add a 3rd ocean front lot to our property. Just big enough to add a pool and a phenomenal increase in value to what we have. When we are pushing up daisies, the kids will thank us. Besides, while it is hardly the point, most villas here have a pool and not having one is not just a downgrade of sorts but puts you in the Jed Clampet category.
How we started
The infernal subject of taxes
As long as we are on that, we might as well talk about that other unavoidable one. Death. I was reminded the other day that by the actuarial tables, I have about a year and a half to live. Really? I am not amused. Do I look like I am dying? We had better hurry to get this pool finished so I get at least one swim in. I may have to bump off some younger guys to get the averages up. I sure hope the grim reaper does his work alphabeticaly or that at the very least, he got the memo that I am bullet proof.
Every year at this time, I spend at least 3 days working on preparing our taxes. (I am now on my 4th) It is at least as bad as going to the dentist. The fact that I have to deal with 3 homes in 3 countries on two continents doesn't make matters easier. I know that you feel my pain, but seriously, I know this is our own doing, but I have to whine to someone! I say that I must prepare our taxes because our accountant takes all the numbers I provide and fills out the forms. Way above my pay grade... I had a friend who would hand his accountant a shoe box full of receipts and let him figure it out. I can now see why.
Last year's tax forms came in to over 100 pages. They call it 'tax simplification'. And I am just a little guy who is all but broke. We recently had a tax lawyer look at what we were doing and he marveled at how much of our laughably paltry income we manage to shelter (legally) and our ability to write off with our rentals (legally). He immediately spotted just how allergic we are to paying taxes (legally). Did I mention that I what I do is aggressive as all get out but legal? I rest well knowing that, if need be, I am prepared to face an audit at any time. Over the years, I have been audited only twice and came out smelling like a rose each time. I think they have just given up on me.
Yet another public education success!
News you can't use
The Epistle. We report, you decide.
The project
Last month I wrote about the big kitchen reno we undertook during our season here this year. So this was the 'Black Galaxy' granite tile that came from India that we had before.
Before
The wine fridge replaced the trash compactor. The farm sink was a new addition.
Every time we return for our season here, there are always some substantial bits of maintenance that we must see to. Not always very showy or sexy, they still need serious attention. Every 5 years for instance, we have to get the septic tank pumped out and the Palm trees trimmed. Not my favorite idea on how to spend money but it's got to be done. Then there are concrete terraces that need re sealing, a deck that needs to be re stained and on and on and on. We are thrilled that we have 3 acres of privacy here but man, this stuff doesn't get done on its own. We need minions to give us a break.
Meanwhile...
Christmas is upon us, and all of us here at the EPISTLE would like to wish you a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Mucho Batswana or whatever you celebrate at this time of the year. That is all of us including our entire staff, our writer, editor, investors, groupies and hangers on, followers, friends and family, the gardener and maintenance crew.
I apologize if I missed anyone as I am trying to be diverse, equitable and inclusive. If you believe that I have swamp land in Florida to sell you.