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Jun. 1st, 2008 08:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oakenguyWhen D and I talk about what we'll do if we win the lottery, some of our ideas are...I won't say diametrically opposed, it's not like she wants to tear the ticket up or donate the money to Al Jihad...but we disagree on a few small points. Once we're past the 1) pay off all our debts and 2) anonymously establish trust funds for a number of friends and family so *they* don't have to worry about money parts, D tends to lean towards 3) establishing a modest trust fund (like 30K a year) apiece and going on working at our jobs as if nothing had happened.
Which is fine, don't get me wrong, except for the very limited amount of money, the continuing to work, and the lack of fun.
And by "fun" I mean "getting a jetpack and flying over the elementary school at recess time dropping hundreds of $5 bills and laughing like a maniac".
Um. To name one, totally random example.
Anyhow, every now and then I need to reassure her that we could, once rich, quit our jobs and still live productive lives. Although I don't think she's so worried about herself, because often in these talks I find myself specifically reassuring her that I could resist buying a television the size of our wall, *every* game console, about 900 DVDs, and spending so much time in front of a screen I develop the pale grey skin usually only seen on the underbellies of cave fish. "No no," I say in response. "You know what I'd do if I never had to work? I'd volunteer. At a no-kill shelter. I'd walk the dogs and play with the kitties." And that ends the conversation because how can someone argue with that? (Especially when I don't mention the part about how the pets who don't get adopted will come hang out on my Nantucket-sized ranch and live their lives in happy comfort because HELLO I'M RICH)
But here's the other path I can see myself getting lured down if independently wealthy, and it's something I've never told anyone:
I could totally be one of those eccentric birdwatchers who get up at dawn and travel around the world just checking out different species.
I like birds. I really do. They're complicated little critters but not TOO complicated, if you get what I mean? Like, I've never walked away from an encounter with a bird going "What the hell was THAT about?"* I have just about enough perception to tell whether your average flock of geese is getting along well or not. Humans are trickier.
Today in the same tree where I saw my first-ever catbird on Friday, I watched two orioles (again, the first I'd ever seen) trying to intimidate a red-tailed hawk off his perch. From the way they were freaking out they must have a nest nearby. The hawk was busy watching the geese down below and didn't seem to care less. Meanwhile the local starling fledglings are at that awkward stage where they've left the nest but still aren't too clear on how to get food besides sitting very still and then freaking out when momma gets close; our local sparrows, a couple steps behind them in the whole process, are doing some amazing mating dances where the male leans forward and hops around the female while he flicks his tail like someone trying to crack an invisible whip, and a killdeer has figured out that the riverbank by the water treatment building and its barbed wire fence is a fairly safe place to build a home. And that's all in three blocks!
So this is my only hint, because D and I have sworn that if we win the lottery we're going to avoid the media and stay completely anonymous: if a trust fund for you appears out of nowhere and I start making lots of entries about whooping crane sightings, you'll know what's up.
*This is possibly because I haven't spent much time with ravens.
Which is fine, don't get me wrong, except for the very limited amount of money, the continuing to work, and the lack of fun.
And by "fun" I mean "getting a jetpack and flying over the elementary school at recess time dropping hundreds of $5 bills and laughing like a maniac".
Um. To name one, totally random example.
Anyhow, every now and then I need to reassure her that we could, once rich, quit our jobs and still live productive lives. Although I don't think she's so worried about herself, because often in these talks I find myself specifically reassuring her that I could resist buying a television the size of our wall, *every* game console, about 900 DVDs, and spending so much time in front of a screen I develop the pale grey skin usually only seen on the underbellies of cave fish. "No no," I say in response. "You know what I'd do if I never had to work? I'd volunteer. At a no-kill shelter. I'd walk the dogs and play with the kitties." And that ends the conversation because how can someone argue with that? (Especially when I don't mention the part about how the pets who don't get adopted will come hang out on my Nantucket-sized ranch and live their lives in happy comfort because HELLO I'M RICH)
But here's the other path I can see myself getting lured down if independently wealthy, and it's something I've never told anyone:
I could totally be one of those eccentric birdwatchers who get up at dawn and travel around the world just checking out different species.
I like birds. I really do. They're complicated little critters but not TOO complicated, if you get what I mean? Like, I've never walked away from an encounter with a bird going "What the hell was THAT about?"* I have just about enough perception to tell whether your average flock of geese is getting along well or not. Humans are trickier.
Today in the same tree where I saw my first-ever catbird on Friday, I watched two orioles (again, the first I'd ever seen) trying to intimidate a red-tailed hawk off his perch. From the way they were freaking out they must have a nest nearby. The hawk was busy watching the geese down below and didn't seem to care less. Meanwhile the local starling fledglings are at that awkward stage where they've left the nest but still aren't too clear on how to get food besides sitting very still and then freaking out when momma gets close; our local sparrows, a couple steps behind them in the whole process, are doing some amazing mating dances where the male leans forward and hops around the female while he flicks his tail like someone trying to crack an invisible whip, and a killdeer has figured out that the riverbank by the water treatment building and its barbed wire fence is a fairly safe place to build a home. And that's all in three blocks!
So this is my only hint, because D and I have sworn that if we win the lottery we're going to avoid the media and stay completely anonymous: if a trust fund for you appears out of nowhere and I start making lots of entries about whooping crane sightings, you'll know what's up.
*This is possibly because I haven't spent much time with ravens.
