Where I Come From

We live in the house I grew up in. Hank and I bought it after my parents divorced and have done some major renovations to it. We love the land and the location. Most of the time.

I woke up to the sound of spinning tires at 3:00 this MORNING. I immediately thought we had gotten some more freezing rain and my husband couldn't get out of the driveway to work. So, I get up to check. I find the neighbors have had too much Christmas Cheer and are "pulling" on the road. What is "pulling"? Well, two vehicles are chained together going in the opposite direction and the one with the most power wins. Since Hank and I like to enjoy these moments together, I call him on his cell. He assured me that he got off to work just fine and yes they were getting ready to pull before he left. I went back to bed. I fell asleep after all the victory yelling was over. This is harder to do in the summer when my windows are open and they are pulling tractors. (If you are worried about the safety of other motorists we have no traffic on our road at 3 am.)

Why do I put up with this? Why don't I call the police like the rest of the neighbors? Because, if I need anything they're one of the first people to help me out. If Hank is at work and we get a bad snow, they plow us out without even being asked. They let my chickens run thru their yard. They give me tomoatoes from their garden. My kids run the neighborhood with their kids. (yes, they have kids) (yes, I let them play with my kids. They are here all.the.time.) I've learned to take the good with the bad.