Drones and Self-Discovery (yikes)

Okay, when I left off, we had just finished the Casita and I was moving into it. That was, pretty much the end of the story. But, as I said last time, there were two smaller incidents that I should mention.

First, the drone.

Right after the Casita was done, but I hadn’t yet moved into it, we got a call from Amanda and Chad Moore. Could they stop by, they asked, for a final inspection of the project? Of course, we said, anytime. And so, a few days later, they were at the door.

We all went outside and I opened up the Casita. The four of us toured it and Martha and I complimented them on their company’s excellent work. Then they asked, Would you mind if we took some pictures? For marketing purposes?

Oh course they could! We wouldn’t mind at all! So Chad took some photos. Then...then...he opened up a little bag he had and in it was a Drone! A tiny quadcopter. He took out a controller and off went the drone, whirring quietly, and it flew into the open door of the Casita.

Wait. What?

And then we realized what was going on. He was taking a walk-through video. This would be shown to potential customers who might be interested in similar buildings and sheds.

Holy Shostakovich, I said to myself. With a side order of Mussorgsky, I added. It really is the twenty-first century, isn’t it? And the future, like the past, is another country. People do things differently there.(1)

The Moores finished up and headed on their way. A few months later, we got an email from Amanda drawing our attention to an advertisement her company had run in a couple of local papers. There was our Casita, looking cozy as all heck. I must confess, I was flattered.

Oh, something amusing. The Moores had made a few changes in the photo (thank heaven for Photoshop! When I think of all the things we used to do with scissors and glue...). They had, for one thing, given it a more Autumnal feel with falling leaves and such. And...they’d removed the Biden Harris sign I had stubbornly stuck out in front of the Casita.(2) Probably wise given the voting population around these parts.

So, that was cool.

About the photos: First, one last shot of the Casita before I leave this topic. Notice that pathway I put in. The little rubber tiles are way easier to schlep than concrete ones 😁. Second, one of the irises that shows up just outside the Casita. I have a most charming commute in the the morning. And, third, nothing to do with the story, but here’s Martha at Lake Georgetown.

But, moving on, I said that there was a little self-discovery along our path to the Casita. And so there was.

Here’s a question. Why did it take me five years to finally get the Casita built? Well, I’ve mentioned some of the problems we encountered in the process, but, come, let’s face it. I could have pushed harder somewhere along the way. And I could have gotten everything done much, much earlier.

And it wasn’t like we didn’t need the extra space. (We did.) And it wasn’t like we couldn’t afford it. We’d carefully sequestered the necessary funds in a special account long before. And it wasn’t like the Casita wasn’t going to pay for itself in the long run. It, like the generator, is an investment, not a luxury. It will add to the value of the house when the time comes to sell it. Someone will look at the Casita and see an office for themselves, or a playhouse for the children, or an AirBnB for an income.

But I just didn’t do it.

Why? Because...because...as Martha later pointed out to me....because some part of me simply couldn’t allow myself to have something I really needed, and really wanted. Because, for some reason, I believed I didn’t deserve it. “Oh Lord, I am not worthy.” And I’m not even religious.

Frankly, this is a defect in my character. Not buying things that you *don’t* need and *can’t* use and *can’t* afford is good. That’s a virtue. But not investing in things that *are* useful, and important, and which will increase your worth in the long term, that’s a problem. Maybe even a neurotic one.

So...maybe I’ve learned something here. I guess, from now on, I’ll try to keep in mind that there is a difference between healthy self-discipline and morbid self-denial.

I won’t always succeed in that, but maybe it’s time I gave it a shot.

Anyway, that’s the story of the Casita. And that’s the end of this particular series.

But...

Stay tuned. Lots more to come. I’ve got a couple of more series coming up. There’s some more New Mexico. And some Florida.

And...

And...

Some Angels.

And finally, a short video which really and truly, no kidding, honest-to-goodness reveals my guardian angel considering my next project. (Okay, I’m fibbing. But this is a hint.)

Footnotes:

1. The line is from L.P. Hartley’s novel The Go-Between (1953), and was originally “The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.” It has been adopted by historians to describe how difficult it is to really understand on an emotional level the periods they study.

2. I had gotten the Biden Harris sign at the beginning of 2024. When Biden dropped out (or was pushed), I got Harris Waltz signs instead, but I kept the first sign and put it in the backyard. Hey, I’m nothing if not stubborn.

3. Seriously, Martha has been pointing this out to me for years. Slowly but surely, I’m trying to hear the message. Of course, it would be a little easier if she weren’t almost as expert at denying herself stuff as I am. Ah well. We’re all of us a work in progress at the best.

Copyright©2026 Michael Jay Tucker

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