I finally did something that I had been meaning to do all summer. And last summer, too. I took a drive to northern Wisconsin and talked to a realtor about the possibility of selling the chunk of land on the Yellow River that I own jointly with my sibs. I took along a consultant former realtor to make sure I didn't blunder into alien territory (PW). I came away with promises from two realtors to have a look at the land and give us some options as to price. Perhaps we'll be able to move the property, perhaps not, but it seems like a good time to take a chance. One of the other lots of the six in the set is also for sale - the one just next to ours, on the other side of the gully, one belonging to the children of the next to youngest of Lillie's sisters.
It was an interesting trip in many ways. We stopped at the Webster Cemetery and looked at the state of the graves of the family members interred there. As we were trimming some branches off a tree near Grandma Anderson's grave we ran into a woman. She asked if I was related to the Andersons. I admitted to being a grandson of my own grandparents. She said that her uncle John was the guy who watered the flowers and otherwise tended the graves. He also planted the pine trees near the graves. It turns out that she is my cousin's cousin - and lives in Webster now. Her uncle John is 89 and lives in Grantsburg, so several of my readers can guess his identity.
PW and I trekked to the lot site and checked out the state of the property. Of course, I couldn't remember the dimensions of the lot, nor could I find the corner survey stakes. But I took a photo of the river, except that it was upstream from the bridge (the one near County Roads FF and U). And towards the Fort. It's posted below.
The fat's in the fire.