Dear Editor,
I sat for three hours in an overfilled council chambers Monday, hearing and pondering the many points of view on whether or not to limit farmhouses to 500 square metres (aprox. 5,400 square feet), which sure sounds like a “dream home” to me, and certainly enough for all my relations, who, if the farmwork runs out, can help with dusting all those rooms.
Although I believe house size is a red herring in some ways, (but becoming stinky from being out of the water too long, awaiting a decisive bylaw), and home plate is more crucial to the actual farmability of the fertile fields of Richmond, it’s still highly symbolic, for many, and its speculative value is considerable, for the few.
It seems, at least in some cases, that the blueberries in the field, in spite of how much love and labour it takes to bring them to harvest, might just be a token, a stand-in for bumping up one’s equity.
As at least one speaker said, his crop is only worth $10,000 a year — not exactly enough to play poker with the big boys, so what’s the deal? Its potential value as an investment, whether to house a family or not, is really what’s driving this “game” forward.
Speaking of card games, after watching the deals in this week’s round of hands, I can report that the casino doors of City Hall are still wide open (for rampant speculation) and the stakes are higher than ever. And that everybody with skin in the game is still bluffing, whether or not the “pot” (or field) is full of blueberries, buffalo chips, cow patties or the real green stuff — marijuana, as the case may be.
Oddly though, the local players with vested interests are no longer holding their cards so close to their chest, with many players essentially admitting on Monday night, more or less directly, that without the large house size allowance (currently 1,000 sq metres or 10,700+ sq. ft.) they won’t be able to maximize their land values necessary to gain the equity needed to keep their farm viable, and their families housed (let alone the opportunity to cash in when the time is right, before the casino goes broke).
It’s a safe bet, though, that with at least a tripling of farmland values in a year, no one currently in the game will lose their shirt, however small of a house they are stuck in.
Meanwhile, seen from a tiny corner on another side of the betting table, the pot odds are ever-increasing for new potential farmers wanting to lay a measly little bet in this high-stakes game, before they just fold altogether, giving up on their dream of feeding the rest of us foolish ones.
They know that when the chips are down, and famine is at the door (and no mansion door is exempt from famine) the real value of every acre of fertile soil will be revealed.
I must also report that the city (or at least the majority of council except Steves, Day and the mayor), acting as both dealer and casino manager, with its own cards still held close, decided to hold off playing its hand decisively — yet again. There’s a name for that and it’s the stuff left behind by those flightless birds in the barnyard.
The given reason for the indecision: that related concerns could be packaged comprehensively, such as whether the farmers can build an extra full-house for labourers, and whether they should do a straight or a royal flush into their septic fields, and whether those fields are under the raspberries or under the tennis court.
All the while, new bets are being raised with the permits dept. every week, so casino management still gets its rake and its toke (of permit fees and taxes), while dealing out yet another hand of approvals to the big boys at the table, whether farmer-owners seeking ever greater value or those mysterious “others” of even more dubious intention (those “sharks” and “whales” with the duffle bags perhaps).
But who owns this casino, this House of Cards? Of course the citizens of Richmond do, and odds are by the fall election it will collapse (if it’s not already too late!), once those of us not directly playing (but still voting) realize what the pit bosses are doing.
Glen Andersen
RICHMOND
