Ronny and his wife were sick of the city living, so they bought a block of land up in the mountains and moved their small family there.
They spent the first few weeks positioning their old caravan and installing a pump for water and a generator for power.
They owned an old kombi wagon, and Ronny had a motor bike that he rode to work each day.
He’d come to work each day, often unwashed and would use the staff facilities to make himself look presentable. I often wondered how his wife got on stuck out there each day with three small kids.
As much as Ronny would love to have forgone all of societies norms he had to work in order for them to accumulate enough money to start on a more permanent structure.
It took him years to achieve that, and by then he and his wife had decided it was too much and she had left, taking the kids with her back to her parents in the city.
Ronny was left with a ramshackle collection of buildings held together with hope and the occasional piece of rope. But with the departure of his wife, he had no ambition nor motivation to carry on.
He was stuck with a worthless piece of land and a whole bunch of dreams.