I've just come back from the cabin where I let the pest control guy in to kill anything that moves and spray the trees for ticks. While there, I learned something fun and new!
Our neighbors, whose driveway we share, are caretakers for the rich folk who own that land and a big 'ol house next door. They seem like nice people, and I hope they're going to make good neighbors. We've only just met them because as of last summer, they weren't there.
The new neighbors have set up a trailer house just off the driveway where it splits to go to our cabin. We can't tell if anyone's actually living in it (the family lives in a regular house further down the drive), but it's up on cinder blocks so it doesn't look like it'll be going anywhere soon. And that's fine. It's their land, so... well, whatever.
But today, in addition to the trailer, I found some even newer neighbors: a whole flock of chickens. About a dozen, including a few roosters, to be specific. At least one of whom crowed the whole time I was there. The chickens are in a coop about 100 feet from our cabin. That is to say, our bedrooms are about 100 feet away from some 4:30 a.m. cock-a-doodle-doing.
My mom, being who she is, tried to put a positive spin on it. "Maybe the girls can learn more about chickens and egg-gathering, if the neighbors are willing to show them."
Mm hm. Great.
Don't get me wrong, chickens are lovely. I enjoy them as food on a regular basis. And, again, it's their land, their choice.
But I'd be lying if I said I though this was good news. I'm really, really, hoping we'll be able to clear out a new drive that comes through our property only and bypasses the country-show we've got goin' on over there. Can you tell I'm not yet through with the anger phase of mourning?
