Tag Archives: country living

Because you can’t say no to free trees.

 

In an effort to beautify his farm, our neighbor grew 100 silver birch trees. He planted a row of them  (54!)  alongside the road and I must say…. they’ll look impressive in a few years.

Next thing we knew he was planting them down his driveway, on the next door neighbor’s property and along the road on the other side of the street.

Not wanting to be left out, I asked if we could buy 3 to put in front of our big barn.

 

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He said no.

But that he would be over the next day to give us three and plant them.

We love our neighbors.

 

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This half dead flowering plum will have to go.

 

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Spring was late in coming this year, and while our lawn is still trying to recover from some mid May snow and frost and doesn’t look it’s best yet, I had to laugh at the husband’s reaction to having parts of it disturbed.

 

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You know that man in your neighborhood who’s constantly outside raking, picking up twigs, and screaming “Get off my lawn!” at children? That’s my husband. He’s been known to mow the same patch of grass 3 times in one day.

 

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And yes, I bought him that shirt.

I think watching our neighbor tear up and fling the soil around was physically painful for him.

 

 

 

 

But he endured with stoic silence.

 

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And we all got in on the act.

 

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Say no to free trees?

 

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I love my town … part, whatever.

 

Our town’s FB page has been filled with blog fodder lately.

Here are a few of the best…

 

 

Name That Scat?

You can’t get quality posts like this in the city.

No sir.

 

 

Damn, I wonder if that drone crackpot who wrapped himself in tinfoil lives close by?

No anal probes needed here.

 

 

This is utterly fabulous.

No joke.

 

 

Good thing the husband didn’t see this.

Free is a four letter word as far as I’m concerned.

 

 

 

Christ…

I hope not.

 

 

Our townspeople are so helpful.

Because you can never be too prepared for Zombies.

 

 

Toilet paper…

What’s that?

 

 

The Easter Bunny was spotted last month, although I’m not sure why he needed a cannon.

 

 

Thankfully this person lives on the other side of town because while tire planters are never a good idea….

Hot pink tire planters would strain even Mr. Rogers’ love for his neighbors.

You can’t pick your neighbors…

 

But you can bitch about them on your blog, and that’s something.

When we lived down south we had a rental property next door. It was a revolving door of nightmarish neighbors, each one worst than the last. For 17 years we physically cringed when the moving van pulled up to unload the next batch of morons.

You think I’m kidding when I say morons?

One guy came over and asked my husband how to change a light bulb.

 

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One never mowed the lawn.

One had wild parties every night (and never invited us, which is the definition of rude).

One brought cockroaches to the cul de sac.

One had to be evicted (she may or may not have been a hooker, tough call).

One shot pigeons for fun and left their rotting carcasses in the back yard.

One ran an errand for his wife and never came back.

One painted the house’s exterior trim Pepto Bismol pink.

Yes, in retrospect it sounds entertaining. But trust me, it was anything but.

So when we moved back to Maine and chose to live in the country far away from the morons? When we picked a house where you can barely see your neighbors?

 

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Anyway….

Life was good. Until a dumb ass neighbor moved in to the house behind us.

Have you ever Google Earthed yourself?

This is a shot of our place.

 

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With a giant blue dot for what must have been me with my laptop out on the deck.

We own a smidge over 3 acres and as you can see, mow most of it. Our property line ends a few dozen feet into the woods and the adjoining property runs down to the river. Sadly, it was all one massive piece 2 years before we moved here. Wish we had found it before it was split up… but if wishes came true? I’d be 5’9″, 120 lbs and have a summer home in Tuscany.

The previous owners of our home lived here for 2 years while they built a larger house on the water. They were great…. but moved away after 10 years. Now we have a college frat boy/trust fund baby whose daddy bought him the house (for $750,000), gave him a prosperous business, which he then sold for a fortune and “retired” at 35. He spends all his time playing with numerous expensive toys and traveling on daddy’s dime. Must be nice.

But the reason for this bitchy post?

One of his toys is a giant motor home….. that he parks on the outermost limit of his property so he won’t have to see the damn thing.

 

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That’s us in blue, with our little 3 acres. We own a narrow patch of the woods past the fields….. his house is on the upper left of the picture.

He had all that wooded land in between….

 

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But he parked the stupid thing 2 inches from our property line.

 

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You can’t pick your neighbors… but you can certainly waste 478 words bitching about them.

 

 

Autumn woes.

 

Just some deer…

 

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And last month’s backyard fall leaves.

 

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I fear for our resident buck this time of year.

 

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Bow season in October, rifle season in November, black powder season in December.

 

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Three months of abject slaughter I will never understand.

 

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I’m tired of the culling argument. Mother Nature takes care of her own…. and hunters don’t want the small and the weak.

 

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They want the big racks. (Of course they do, they’re men.)

They kill the strongest, largest and healthiest buck they can find…. which means those genes won’t get passed on.

 

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Meanwhile, Momma’s fawns are growing up.

 

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No more spotted Bambis.

 

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And the does enjoy a treat before cold weather sets in….

I love my town… chapter 4.

 

My town’s FB page keeps me up to date on all the important local happenings…

 

 

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And some of the not so important ones as well.

 

 

There were a lot of takers for this next one…

 

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I’m just hoping this wasn’t their mode of transportation.

 

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Another lost pig made the news…

 

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And he seemed pretty happy to stay that way.

 

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Then there was a woman wondering if anyone was interested in a group she was getting together.

 

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Singing bowls?

Clearly she attended one of those crazy adult education classes I’m always riffing about.

 

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And finally there was this one, posted on the day Maine made cell phone usage while driving illegal.

Technically it’s not about my town, but funny all the same.

 

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Goat horn foreheads should never be overlooked.

 

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Thank you Google Images for providing my nightmare material for the foreseeable future.

**Shudders**

 

 

Some random photographs….

 

Because sometimes I want to share, and they just don’t rate a blog of their own.

 

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A few shots of my local area.

 

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I’m blessed to live in such a beautiful state.

 

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Top that for sunrise color. I dare ya!

As you’ve probably guessed by now, when we travel…. I take a lot of pictures. The husband is quite patient with me and usually pulls over when I point out the window, squeee! and yell pull over. He never wants to photograph anything, so I had to laugh a few weeks ago when he stopped along side something and asked me to take a picture of it for him.

I did….

 

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And am seriously hoping it doesn’t end up in our barn in the near future.

 

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This is not what you want to be following during a traffic jam on Route 1. I saw pink hippos in my dreams for many nights after that.

And finally…

Me.

 

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No makeup, just a smile…. and the realization that laying out in the sun this past summer has bleached my hair to the point where I now have dark roots without ever having dyed it.

What the Hell?

 

I love my town… Part 3.

 

 

 

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For once, our small town’s Facebook page rose above the petty gossip and backstabbing and actually came in handy. Last night, along with the usual lost pig notices… there was a report of a dump truck flipping over, taking out a power line and closing the main road. This was helpful since my husband’s car had overheated and left him stranded on I-295. Knowing about the closure in advance saved me taking the out of the way detour.

Of course the page also had some other gems.

 

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Rent a goat! There’s a start up sure to make a fortune.

Heck, they love to eat…

 

 

Are easy to transport….

 

 

And give great back massages.

 

 

How could you lose?

Then there was this:

 

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Someone wants to cook pie for me?

That can’t be bad.

 

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And finally, there was this heartfelt thank you note…

 

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Moral of that story?

If you live in the country, always carry carrots and apples.

 

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Okay, well….

There’s no correct amount of produce for that.