Road to Pemberley

By the old Moulmein pagoda
Lookin' lazy at the sea
There's a Burma girl a-settin'
and I know she thinks o' me".

Despite the many poems and songs written to it, certainly not an easy road to travel, methinks. Quite as difficult a path as the road to Pemberley. A little something our newly literate Charming Calvin picked to christen his new home. Certainly posh enough ( and pricey enough! ) to rival the famed residence of the Darcys.

Despite the purported rumours of a recession with lay-offs and budget cuts, the real estate industry doesn't seem to have taken as much of a hit. The shockingly overinflated prices don't seem to have come down even a little bit. Obviously the lucky nabobs are impervious to such slings and arrows of misfortune.

Not Charming Calvin though.


Maybe I should buy the bridge as well!
Since the exorbitant price tag for Pemberley looked intimidating enough, it took a while for Calvin to get his affairs in order before making the momentous decision. Getting his ducks in a row so to speak. Can't recall the time I bought my own place but surely it took much less deliberation. Then again in comparison to the palatial Pemberley, my little hillside manor would probably cost as low as the shabbiest housemaid's quarters.

Still, our manly Calvin steeled himself, said a wishful prayer and took the plunge into financial insecurity. Armed with a fixed deposit, an indifferent housemate and an indomitable spirit. Kudos, I say.

Of course the difficulty starts now as Calvin attempts to extract certain financial documents from his redoubtable mama Madame Borgia's safekeeping. The venerable Swiss Banks have nothing on this lady. Almost nothing escapes her fierce eagle-eyed glance - and she would be far from pleased to know that her blue-eyed boy intends to reside in the sinful city of Sodom permanently.

Already imagining a daring Mission Impossible stunt with Charming Calvin - appropriately dressed in studly black - shimmying down a rope to break into his mother's locked safe. In the dead of night. Possibly with me at the computer relaying instructions via the snazzy headphones.

Paul : Not a sign of movement from the bedroom. Big Mama's down for the count. Make your move.
Calvin : Damn. Looks like she's activated the alarm system.
Paul : Lemme just fiddle with it.

Madame Borgia wouldn't even know what hit her.

Of course defeating Borgia's schemes is only the first step on a long journey. Now to deal with real estate agents, shifty house owners and bank managers.