Dear Prudence: I bought an old man. Can I return him?

[minoanmiss]

Two years ago I bought a farm, and with the farm came a “man on the land” who is 84 and has been a general gardener and handyman on the property for more than 30 years. Let’s call him “Zeke.” He’s obviously too old to do some of the more rigorous labor, but he putts around on the riding mower and tidies up. When I deign to disagree with how he goes about his work, he gets angry. I asked him once to not mow by the house, as it was distracting to my work-from-home husband, and he yelled a bunch and huffed off on the mower at top-speed. While this behavior is somewhat humorous when viewed through a “grumpy old man” lens, I don’t find it amusing that someone who is paid by me cannot tolerate any adjustment in his agenda. It feels gendered as well; prior to the pandemic, he was a bit grabby and asked for kisses on the cheek, for example.

In addition, a fairly valuable and large antique was left in one of my barns by a previous owner almost 12 years ago. Zeke insists that the previous owner had gifted this item to him, but will not offer any proof, and I’ve asked him multiple times to move it or I would need to charge storage, as I have other equipment I would like to keep out of the weather. Half of me wants to just give him this item, which is worth probably $15,000, because I don’t need the money and I don’t want problems, but the other half wants to fire him and tell him if he wanted this item, he had a dozen years to take it. My husband says to let him take the item and fire him, as this situation is causing me consternation. Zeke’s identity is very highly wrapped up in this farm, and this is a small, rural community and he has a large sprawling family network that I’m sure I will cross paths with. What should I do?

—Man on My Land, Get Off My Land

Friend, if you ever want to be accepted in your new community, you are as stuck with Zeke as you are stuck with the rolling hills and darling glens of your new farm. You do not want to be the rich city folk who not only bought the old Barfspringer farm but fired 84-year-old Zeke. My advice to you is to have the giant crystal bird feeder delivered to his house, let Zeke ride his lawn mower around until the day he drops dead, and steer clear of him when you can.


—Prudie, bucolically