The locksmith eyed this birdfeeder and mentioned it might attract more bears than birds...oops.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Midnight on the Mountain

So today we take ownership of a 3.9 acre plot of trees. We'll sign the papers, walk the land and promptly take an ax (or is it axe?) to some of the tallest. They're blocking our view of the mountains, and while it seems quite the necessary thing to do, it doesn't feel like a noble cause for the trees to die.

I wish there was logs-for-love like the locks-for-love, so we could at least donate the felled wood for some suffering carvers....or ukulele makers.

I have a new favorite show...Hot in Cleveland. Betty White and three other women share adventures in life. It's hilarious!

Last night there was intrigue on the mountain. At precisely 1:20 a.m., the sound of crunching gravel woke me from a fit sleep and I knelt by the open window to watch headlights slowly move up our road. Most all good christian folk are tucked tightly in their beds in the wee hours on Friday mornings, so the chances this was someone up to no-good were quite high.

The car paused by the entrance of our driveway, backed up (thank God) and headed down our neighbor's long driveway that leads deep into the wood down to their farm. They must have visitors coming in for the holiday weekend, having driven in from New Jersey or some other far-away land, I figured.

Satisfied, I crawled back under the covers. Two minutes later, the whine of an engine in reverse echoed through the night and I knelt by the window again and watched the car, moving backwards quickly, turn around, and leave the mountain.

 We discussed how someone must have been lost and most likely was surprised when they drove that long distance in the woods and ended up at someone's farm. (I'm thinking the farmer was at the door with a 12 gauge shotgun to emphasize that they were indeed at the wrong house).

So I got back in bed. However, not five minutes later, lights flashed on the walls and the car came up the mountain again, this time driving with purpose back down the long, wooded farm driveway. Someone was convinced this was the right drive. I stood by the window, listening for gunshots, hearing nothing but the whippoorwills, frogs and crickets. The air was literally vibrating with a cacophony of night noise, so I'm not sure I would have been able to hear any middle-of-the-night mayhem anyway.

 Two minutes passed and the car was back again, up out of the woods to head down the mountain. What was this? Late night pizza delivery? A lost holiday cabin renter? I'm guessing the farm family wasn't too happy.

Betty White would have just gone out, sprayed mace in the driver's face and happily crawled back under the covers.

So I'll be taking a nap later today...

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