LOVE THY NEIGHBORS – Marilyn Armstrong

Our anti-bug and mouse guy says we have an awful lot of birds, but fortunately, we live several hundred yards from anyone else. I’m sure our neighbors would complain, but all they do is grow dope, so I don’t think they worry about birds.

The place is set up with cameras and piles of trash everywhere. Apparently, dope-stealers hate trash. They should wear Bean-boots so they wouldn’t need to worry about their shoes. People never wear the right shoes for late-night theft. Sneakers are inadequate.

We don’t have much in the way of burglary or other “home” crimes, but pot theft is big locally since we have big lots. We have 2.5 acres, about which we apologize as in “we ONLY have 2.5 acres.” Neighbors look at us pityingly. Most people have between 15 and 40 acres and then there are maybe another few hundred empty wooded areas owned by the town or no one, much of it abandoned farmland.

If I could get my birds to poo on something other than our deck (birds are messy and never wash their hands, not having hands), it would be the nasty-ass pot growers next door. They are unpleasant people. They used to fly their own Confederate flag accompanied by a little Black jockey on the front lawn. Garry marched over there one day a few months after we moved in and asked: “DO WE HAVE A PROBLEM?

He had to shout since they were having a massive skinhead beer event. The music was loud enough to hear in low space orbit. The flag and jockey soon departed (we were not the only people who disliked it; this is Massachusetts, after all), but now there’s a lot of dope. I don’t mind the dope. It’s their bad manners I dislike.

All their plants are confined in wire cages. Not at the moment because it’s too cold.  I assume the plants are in their basement under lights. They have to lock them up because otherwise, the deer will eat them. So will the rabbits and skunk, but the deer are more of a problem.

There’s nothing worse than stoned-out deer collapsing in your backyard. You either have to eat them except it isn’t deer season until next fall. Shooting them is a big no-no. Alternatively, you have to wake them up and convince them to move on. Deer can be very uncooperative.

Ah, the joys of rural living. Welcome to life in the country!

8 thoughts on “LOVE THY NEIGHBORS – Marilyn Armstrong

  1. why should humans be the only ones 😎😎😃not sure what a deer would have for munchies though. I went to pick black berries the other day and as I do popped several in my mouth only to discover they had fermented. I now have a vision of deer laying about with joints and bongs and be very dissatsified with their normal grass!

    Like

  2. Pingback: LOVE THY NEIGHBORS – Marilyn Armstrong — Serendipity Seeking Intelligent Life on Earth – quietmomentswithgod

  3. Speaking of intoxicated deer, we once went blueberry picking near the end of the season. This is when some of the berries have turned to alcohol. What should we run into but an intoxicated faun. It still had its youthful spots. It looked at us with its beautiful big eyes and smiled then wobbled over to some fermenting blueberries.
    Leslie

    Liked by 1 person

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