lwheelr
Lovin' The Homestead
So we are out here in yuppieville - where "ranches" and "homesteads" don't ever have cows or chickens, and where most of them don't even have a garden. A few acres and a stone "cottage" (translate to "mansion") with a restrictive HOA is their idea of paradise. There are still a few plots of ground they do not control, one of which we are currently situated upon.
People go to WalMart in dress clothes (I have yet to see anyone in jammies, even the fashionable type), and you can tell that while they may buy their groceries there, they DON'T buy their clothes there as a rule.
When you see someone walking or biking on the side of the road, you can tell they are NOT doing it to get somewhere. They are "dressed for it", wearing the proper bicycling attire or a jogging suit and shoes that you just know they don't wear at any other time (perish the thought of them ever coming in contact with manure).
Today, they held a "Street of Dreams" open house near us, in an "exclusive, guarded, gated community" just down the road a few miles. We SO wanted to crash it.
We figured we'd get in the truck - 1997 Ford F-350 Diesel, Crew Cab, Extended Bed, no tailgate, dents here and there. Red and gray, so it looks older than it is (the thing actually runs great...). We thought we should toss a bale of hay and a cooler in the back, and maybe a crate of chickens.
Kevin hasn't shaved all week, and I'm wearing my WalMart special clothing - denim capris with a ribbed t-shirt, and a pair of VERY casual leather and web sandals. He's in a printed T with jeans that are worn at the heels. I'm pretty sure there are remnants of something smelly on his boots, or maybe some leftover blood from butchering. He's usually got a camo ballcap with 48 on it somewhere nearby, if not perched on his head.
We brainstormed lines we could try on them:
"Sure you ain't got any doublewides? We'd like a used one, not more'n 40 years old."
"Cain't see payin' more'n $10,000 for a house! Whachu think you got here, Buckingham Palace?"
"How do people LIVE here? There ain't a chicken or pig in sight!"
"Gotta have at least 10 acres so's we can put out a deer feeder and keep the family in venison."
"Gate and guard? What do we want that for? Kinda a bother for the friends and relatives on butcherin' days, don't ya think?"
Ah well... Maybe next time.
People go to WalMart in dress clothes (I have yet to see anyone in jammies, even the fashionable type), and you can tell that while they may buy their groceries there, they DON'T buy their clothes there as a rule.
When you see someone walking or biking on the side of the road, you can tell they are NOT doing it to get somewhere. They are "dressed for it", wearing the proper bicycling attire or a jogging suit and shoes that you just know they don't wear at any other time (perish the thought of them ever coming in contact with manure).
Today, they held a "Street of Dreams" open house near us, in an "exclusive, guarded, gated community" just down the road a few miles. We SO wanted to crash it.
We figured we'd get in the truck - 1997 Ford F-350 Diesel, Crew Cab, Extended Bed, no tailgate, dents here and there. Red and gray, so it looks older than it is (the thing actually runs great...). We thought we should toss a bale of hay and a cooler in the back, and maybe a crate of chickens.
Kevin hasn't shaved all week, and I'm wearing my WalMart special clothing - denim capris with a ribbed t-shirt, and a pair of VERY casual leather and web sandals. He's in a printed T with jeans that are worn at the heels. I'm pretty sure there are remnants of something smelly on his boots, or maybe some leftover blood from butchering. He's usually got a camo ballcap with 48 on it somewhere nearby, if not perched on his head.
We brainstormed lines we could try on them:
"Sure you ain't got any doublewides? We'd like a used one, not more'n 40 years old."
"Cain't see payin' more'n $10,000 for a house! Whachu think you got here, Buckingham Palace?"
"How do people LIVE here? There ain't a chicken or pig in sight!"
"Gotta have at least 10 acres so's we can put out a deer feeder and keep the family in venison."
"Gate and guard? What do we want that for? Kinda a bother for the friends and relatives on butcherin' days, don't ya think?"
Ah well... Maybe next time.
Hey, I'll run on home and grab a couple o' chickens, where shood I hang 'em when I kill 'em?" 
