Won’t you be my neighbor?


Yesterday one of my favorite people sent me this video link, and with over 2 million views there’s a possibility that you’ve already seen it, but I wanted to share it anyway because it reminds me of simpler times, when the TV signed off the air waves once in a while and PBS brought the good stuff to the screen. I miss Sesame Street. I’ll pick Big Bird over SpongeBob any day of the week and thirty-seven times on a weekend! And Kermit the Frog should be given the Family Guy Slot on prime time. Kermit’s a class act, and if he can still make all my kids go around singing “Am I a man, or am I muppet?” Well, then I think we should boycott all these cartoons that are just breeding smart asses. (Not that I’m not one myself, but it’s probably better to be part of a dying breed that the start of a spiral that spinning infinitely out of control!)

Now I know what you’re thinking, this is pretty short for a blog from me. Usually I keep you reading for much much longer, but its Saturday, so I’m giving your bi-focals a break here. Besides, I can finally go back outside! You see, this is the gorgeous view from my front porch.

But a few days ago, when I grabbed the mail, I noticed a faint odor in the air. It has grown into a rancid smell that has been holding me prisoner in my own home. Finally the hubby investigated and upon closer inspection he noticed a little something under the tree.

What is that you ask? Well I’m afraid that’s as close as I was going to get for the sake of blogging. That my friends is a gigantic dead deer. It’s on the verge of exploding. It’s been rotting in the hot summer sun for days. I called the Sheriff because last week he sent me a postcard that said by reelecting him I was choosing someone who wants to serve his people. He patched me through to the game warden. When I asked him if he’d deal with it, he said “well, did somebody shoot it?”

“Hmmm… I’m not gonna go look. He possibly could have been hit by a car and run off.”(We’re just a block or so from the highway.)

“If he’s on the highway TxDot will grab him.”

“He’s not on the highway, he’s behind my mailbox in a field.”

“Well, don’t your husband have a pick-up truck?”

Ok, so Barney Fife isn’t gonna help me out here. His suggestions that I drag it to the highway or haul it to the dump are both terrible because they put me in the path of the very smell I have locked myself in the house to avoid. Plus, why in the world should I be the one to pay to haul it to the dump? And that seems a bit heartless for an animal lover like me…

Hubby’s suggestion: “We’ll just wait for the buzzards to find it.” That wasn’t really working for me. My father-in-law thought maybe we could dump some lime on it. Then my hubby suggested we shoot it (I know, it’s dead). He was thinking we should help it go ahead and explode!! (Did I mention I might become a vegetarian, starting TODAY!)

In the end, hubby helped the guy who owns that little spot of land dig a very big hole, and now, I can go check the mail without fear of vomiting!

Cuz “It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood,
A beautiful day for a neighbor.
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?…


5 responses »

  1. You know… I love country living… but this is one of those rare things I really do not miss about it!!! LOL!!! Fantastic post and thanks for the Mister Rogers song in my head for the day!

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