So last night, actually evening - whatever you want to call around 6-ish, I decided to take a break from the never-ending and rarely productive-looking weeding of the flower beds and go for a walk with Esme.
This is not her.
This is Daz.
Do you think I would go for a walk with a chicken?
Okay, maybe I would...
|(Daz is too little to be with the older chickens so she hangs out in a cage on nice days. )|
So Esme and I decided to take a walk across the property.
This is Esme,
she is my faithful puppy.
After discussion, we decided to head off to Way Far Away Land.
To see how well the neighbour's corn is growing.
"Looks like their corn was planted a bit late this year"
(Sorry, I occasionally channel Grandpa Paul.)
Way Far Away Land.
Otherwise known as the back acre of our five acres...
where few venture...
except snakes and the occasional fox...
oh , and the fisher who moved in...
behind the barn.
As we wandered up the hill I thought to myself:
"Self, do we even OWN a lawnmower?"
Then I realized...
Oh, it's a deer bed.
Now I see why it isn't mowed (.....mown? Mowded? - I prefer the last choice.)
No reason to mow down where the deer sleep.
As I stood there, I thought,
The deer are watching me in my room...
A wave of paranoia came over me.
Then back to reality when I found out that this strange creature actually sits there to think.
Okay. So she said she falls down there but let me hold onto the thin hope that she is somewhat normal.
Back to our walk...
Esme and I continued our meandering to Way Far Away Land.
As we approached the old part of the barn, reality struck once again...
My sons are bizarre.
Not all of them, just the ones who mow the lawn.
They made paths.
I've been told it's so the underage drivers could drive on tracks while practice driving.
So they mowed paths.
Just turn and walk away, she said
Just turn and walk away...
By the way,
Looks like their corn was planted a bit late this year...