Saturday, August 17, 2013

Calling the "County"

When you live in 'the county' and not 'town' there are all kinds of differences.  One is that we don't have to keep our dogs in our own yards at all, another is that fireworks are a-okay.  There are no calls to make when you want to build something in your yard, if you want a cow you go get one.  There's no noise ordinance, which means your neighbor can play basketball until 3 a.m. and then go in and blast their radio, but that's okay because the first toe that crosses your property line, you can blow off with your favorite gun.  If you have enough property out in the county, you can bury that neighbor and feign ignorance when the police come around asking questions.  Just get a hog and that covers the smell and the disposal!  Living in the county is great!

But there are some confusing things, like I was advised to 'call the county' when I wanted to know about what kind of bug was eating my rosebush.  I only have the one, but it's bigger than my van.  I have gotten fond of it over the years.  In that instance, they mean the county extension agent.

A couple days ago, a tree fell from the field across from us (owned by someone else) and blocked our road, the end of it barely poked over into the field access to our pasture.  After the dogs had their thrill of sniffing and digging and peeing around it, the boys tried to move it, Matt and I looked at all the mushrooms growing on it and we just sort of left it alone.  To be honest, I would LOVE to have left it there forever.  No more idiots flying by the house at all hours.  Sure, we'd have to get mail out on The Main Road and push the trashcan a whole tenth of a mile and back every week, but it would be worth it!

However, we have a county maintained road, which, in order for the trash and mail to service our residence and the meter reader to pop in every month, they send out a semi with a flatbed that hauls a scraper and a backhoe and they drive up and down the road for 3 hours every 6-8 weeks and widen it a foot every time.  If not for the trees, you could totally land a 747 out there.  Which brings me to my most recent problem, the tree over the road.  I asked around.  "Call the county."  Well, hell.  That hardly helps at ALL.

After a good bit of research, one of Matt's friends who works for 911 gave us the ACTUAL NUMBER and it turns out, you call your district shop.  I NEVER would have figured that out on my own.

Tuesday

Thursday

About Me

Unschooling mama from the start with 2014, 2016 and 2018 graduation dates. I enjoy camping, reading, swimming, hiking and photography.