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It has been a rather long hibernation! That does not mean that Nicole and I were not busy. To the contrary, major events were planned, discussed, discarded and executed.

For many years, I have contemplated the move to a smaller home when I would reach the ‘Official Senior’ status. In Canada, the federal government recognizes citizens who have arrive at the age of sixty-five as seniors and - as repulsive as the term may sound - provides a small pension called ‘Old Age Pension.” Having reached this venerable status, and true to a promise made to myself, I started to consult the real estate section of the newspaper. I can’t say that I was particularly eager. The thought of leaving the house on Hamilton Road seemed such a radical break from everything that was important in my private live for the last twenty-five years – my opus!

After all, from my first visit to the old cow-pasture in 1980 through the design and construction in 1982 and the innumerable improvements, inside and out, of the property, it has been the focal point of our family life. But, with acres of land (much of it on slopes, and a house with thirteen (or is it fourteen now with the sunroom?) rooms, its’ just getting a bit much. Downsizing became the watch-word.

Having friends who moved into condominiums, our first consideration was to do the same. Initially this seemed the ideal solution. No more worries about snow removal, mowing of lawns or building maintenance seemed such a relief. We looked and visited. Most of the available condominiums in the area being relatively new and, of course always single story, seemed very attractive at first. On second thought, however, we feared that the restrictions on our freedom and creativity would lead to premature morosity!

Nicole became depressed just thinking about not being able to grow her flowers from seed in the spring and nursing them to a glorious bloom through the summer and I, contrary to appearances, still like to putter around the house and swing a hammer here and there.

The logical next step was to look for a smaller home with a smaller (level) property, close enough to town (better still in town) to be able to walk to the corner store and go for the daily constitutional. Gary and Marilyn had been coaxing us to consider a move to Pictou for years and both of us liking the shire town, we kept an eye on properties coming up for sale there. Two weeks ago a small Cape Cod house was listed on top of Patterson Street and, for the first time, we seriously considered a move. This house was pleasing to the eye standing on a neatly kept half-acre lot with shrubs and bushes and some flower beds all ready to be planted.

Unfortunately, being a Cape Cod, it also has a set of stairs going to the upper floor and that was defeating the purpose, to some extent, of our move. Taking a close look, we also realized that someone else’s house, no matter how proud the present owner might be of it, would never meet our own preferences, both in layout and decoration. We spent hours contemplating the changes and alterations we would have to make.

We had just made a se