oh, it's hit the fan alright...

I have a giant yellow piece of digging machinery in my yard. I think it’s called a caterpillar, but truthfully, I don’t know for sure. I know it’s menacing and it digs giant holes in the earth. So far three of them. It’s searching for buried treasure. But don’t go getting too excited. I haven’t found the map to One Eyed Willie’s pirate ship or anything. I wish.

They’re searching for my septic tank. Gross, I know. But the worst part was when the guy told my husband that back when my house was built (in the 1920’s) they used to use all sorts of things for septic tanks. He once dug up a sealed up Volkswagon (or so he says, I’m still trying to Google the truth out of that one.) They’d better find the damn thing soon. It’s not functioning properly and it’s backing up into my basement. Yeah…when the shit hits the fan, as the saying goes. Oh, don’t get me started on that one…

Let’s recap my first month in the country, shall we?

I moved in to a house with no hot water for almost two weeks. My washing machine is finally hooked up, but my dryer isn’t, so I can’t really do laundry unless I hang it to dry, and let’s not push my luck with this whole country thing, shall we? My  dishwasher has power, finally, but no water (another long story), and now my septic is backing up into the scary basement (which was already ripped directly out of The Ring and didn’t need any help being terrifying.)

Let’s not forget we might discover someone’s old Beetle, sealed up in a hole serving as a raw sewage receptacle. What the hell…maybe we will find One Eyed Willie’s treasure out there, and if we do…treasure can be washed in super hot water with lots of antibacterial soap, right?

Is it any wonder I’ve decided to disappear into a racy good book or three?

Until the next time…I’ll be knee deep in treasure with a book in my hands!

who needs a vacation anyway?

Living in the mountains is like being on vacation every day.

My feet hurt. My shoulders hurt. I have a sunburn. Me. The girl who avoids the sun like a vampire on spring break. I have a sunburn…on my skin. The skin that rarely sees the sun for more than fleeting moments on any given day. Yeah…about that.

I’m thinking I might be ready for a break from vacation. I’m almost looking forward to the weekend being over so I don’t have to have another bonfire. Or entertain Goonies…for at least a few day. Or build giant tents for the entire neighborhood to sleep in my back yard.

It would seem we’re the cool neighbors. Oh, I sort of knew it already. Eccentric Yankee writer and her engineer (farmer) husband move into the spooky old manor house with a wide assortment of animals, including a giant dog, an owl dueling ghetto cat, a bunch of newly hatched chickens, and after today, three full-size laying hens. Who wouldn’t be drawn to that?

Right…so I have a yard full of kids (the Goonies brought a little sister and a girlfriend today, plus Mike’s youngest is here for the weekend) a freshly lit bonfire, and a giant tent that took three of us to construct and can easily sleep ten juvenile sized humans. Thank goodness there are only five actually out there. And all this after getting pooped on by the new chickens while helping Mike build their coop. By the way, chickens poop way more than I ever realized.

Is it any wonder I’m ready for a shower then bed?

But I can hardly hit the hay (farm joke) until I get the kids settled into the tent (and plan some sort of scare for them, because what sort of cool neighbor would I be if I didn’t try to scare the shit out of a bunch of kids sleeping in my yard?)

Right…that would hardly be cool of me to skip such things. Too bad my daughter and her boyfriend went back to Atlanta. They would be perfect to both supervise and terrorize the teens and preteens out there. Me? I’m just too damn old for this crap. It’s a good thing I have a few vampire cardboard cut outs and a life-size skeleton in the closet for just such occasions.

Maybe after just a quick nap.

Until the next time…I’ll be looking forward to a day of rest.

everybody duck...the Goonies are back!

You know how baby ducks will follow whoever happens to be there when they hatch? This phenomenon can apparently be transferred to humans.

My three little baby ducks…errr…Goonies…errr…neighbor boys spent the day in my back yard again. Oh, they earned their twenty dollars doing a lot of yard work. But when they weren’t mowing their initials in the neighbor’s yard (oh, yes…they did!) or hacking through the thick brush with machetes (because what teenage boy doesn’t fantasize about slashing this way through the jungle with a big knife?) or sneaking cigarettes near the fire pit (don’t get me started on that one!) they were at my back door asking for water…or paper towels…or to visit the dogs, the chicks, the teenagers…you name it.

Yesterday, I worried their mother was missing them while they were gone.

Today, I suspected she squealed with glee as she collected her bath oils and thickest towels to camp out in her bath tub while they were gone. In fact, I suspect she woke them early and reminded them they had grass to mow and brush to cut at my house today.

But all things aside, they were a joy to have around. Other than being typical pre-teen and teenage boys, they were fairly well behaved and good-mannered. Of course, my standards are those of a brusque, vulgar Yankee (per my Southern in-laws) so I may not be the best judge. I certainly didn’t have to worry about corrupting them with newly learned swear words…they appear to know them all (as most teenagers do.)

I did have to draw the line when they came for the evening bonfire smuggling beer in water bottles (I made them pour it down the drain immediately) and reminded them that I may cuss like a sailor, but I’m not in the business of corrupting minors (or encouraging illegal activities).

They didn’t put up a fuss, and I imagine that beer was as hard to get as the liquor in Superbad (forgive the shameless movie reference, but it’s a favorite of mine, and fitting under the circumstances.)

You might suspect I sent them packing after the beer incident, but I didn’t. I secretly congratulated them on a valiant attempt at fooling me (but you’d have to get up way earlier in the morning for that, boys!) and sent them on a mission to find brush to burn in the fire pit. After all…their spring break is almost over, and a nice bonfire never hurt anyone. Um…but just in case, I sent the husband, the daughter, and the daughter’s boyfriend to supervise.

I had a very important blog to write.

Until the next time…I’ll be waiting for the Goonies next adventure to unfold.