Since the virus apocalypse has killed our beloved Red Sox season this year, it’s been a struggle to find alternative viewing when we’re in the mood for something competitive.
So imagine my dismay when I realized we’d missed an entire day of stellar sporting events….
Damn it!
You know that was a nail biting, edge of your seat good time.
And if it wasn’t bad enough we missed the spitters?
Yes.
We missed that too.
In fact, we missed an all star line up of great competitions.
Don’t get excited, I’m talking about deer antlers.
And as I was filtering through my hundreds of shots of our buck the other day….
I thought some of you city people might get a kick out of this.
After the fall rut….. (read: deer orgy, where size does matter) ….. the buck will drop his then useless horns.
It’s a slow process that sometimes takes all winter. The blood supply is cut off and they slowly loosen. You often see bucks with one side hanging crookedly… and they’ll rub against trees, fence posts, picnic tables or whatever is around to knock them off.
Specifically because there’s nothing to see except grass and the occasional 4 legged visitor.
It’s quiet, peaceful and far away from other houses.
Remember a while back when I complained about the neighbor behind us who parked his motor home right next to our property line instead of on any of his other 10 acres?
Well, the other day as I was reading on the couch, I heard banging.
Do you see it?
How about now?
The neighbor’s house isn’t visible from our place, and they have a good 12 acres worth of property, if not more. Some is cleared, some wooded… and it goes right down to the water.
So what did they do?
They started construction of a tree house…… right next to our property line.
Grass? Ours. Brush? Theirs.
Maybe 6 feet between the end of our grass and their tree house frame.
12 acres plus… more than 522,720 square feet! But they had to pick the only spot on our common border that’s open to viewing from our side.
I’d like to bitch… but we love these neighbors, and have always had a good relationship. The owner lost her husband to Parkinsons a few years ago and it broke all our hearts. The home is large and was too much for her to handle alone so her daughter and family moved in to help. Two granddaughters and two step grandsons are now also in residence, hence the tree house.
Which technically it isn’t, since it’s merely tree adjacent.
I don’t mean to sound anti children, but damn. We’re on the other side of the life spectrum and relish our peace and quiet.
But there it is, looming over our backyard.
Did I mention it’s strategically placed on the only break of the tree line?