Uppity Neighbors and Know It All Relatives

The leaves are changing on the rolling hills surrounding Frog Pond Holler. Mornings and evenings are cool enough for an extra blanket, but I'm still thankful for the ac most late afternoons.

I love the fall.

I heard from the M.I.A. Cousin H yesterday, asking me how things were going, like he didn't stand me up last weekend. He asked what all else I needed done and he was all, "I'll be there this afternoon!" Which he was. Only he didn't fix anything.

I've asked him about a gazillion times if he could put a sewer tap on the end of the house. His reply was usually, "Daddy says there's one going out to the road right in front of where you have your RV." I've explained to him over and over (and over again) that when his Daddy had his camper parked in our yard (I truly wish I was making this up, but I'm not) he simply dug a hole and stuck the pipe in the ground to give the appearance of a way to responsibly dispose of waste from his camper. It was then implied, on several occasions, by Cousin H, that I was just a silly girl and goodness... why didn't I just hush and let Mr. Big Ol' Mancritter handle it?

This conversation took place again when he called me yesterday, resulting in his showing up at The Asylum, with his pop en tow, after he dug a fresh hole in my front yard where both he and his father SWORE there was a connection to the town sewer supply.

He pretty much said, "Well what do ya know? There was nothing there! They must have taken it out when they fixed the sidewalk."

Sure Cousin H. Tell yourself whatever you need to to keep your burly mountain man nads in tact.


Cousin H then agreed to come install a tap, LIKE I ASKED HIM TO BEGIN WITH, for $50 if I'd go ahead and give him the cash, because he HAD to get some money. Oh.. and he'll do it next weekend. He must have gotten more of that latent Gypsy DNA than I did, because he made it sound like a totally reasonable transaction, right up until he had me call the bank to make sure they'd cash a check for him without I.D.

So anyways, I thought I'd at least go out and spray some of that expand-o-foam stuff on the water leak by the outside spigot so I could run some water to the cave. I had to cut the fence apart, waller the skirting off the trailer and stick my arm in scary places, only to discover that it wasn't a little leak, it was pretty much running out.

I put it all back together and decided to just add it to the list of things I'll have Cousin H do next weekend. If he shows up. I used pink present wrapping ribbon to tie the fence back together. I'd take pictures to show you, but I don't know where my camera is. It might be in one of these piles of stuff I need to put away.

Did I mention that the entire right side of my face is infected? No? I don't know if it's tooth, sinus, throat or ear in origin, but it's kicking my ass.

What's that you say? Go to the doctor?

I have an entire bottle of perfectly good antibiotics that they gave Ma at the E.R. that she refused to take. I don't even know what they're called. But I'm taking them. And resting. Sort of.

I finally hauled the box spring to the dump this morning. My busibody neighbor was there, asking why I was throwing it away. I explained, not that it was any of her effin' beeswax, but it's the way of the holler.

She snarled her nose up and said, "Well I reckon you'll sleep on the floor then won't ya?"

What the hell?

I smiled and explained that there was no problem with the mattress and that I had very nice place to sleep. Nicer than the bed I had in the trailer. I wanted to tell her to go perform carnal acts of a lewd and lascivious nature upon herself, but I didn't have the balls I'm too nice.

I know what's up her booty. There has been some discussion of her and her hubby's distaste with the RV that sat over at the Dubya estate for years. The word "eyesore" was used. When it was hauled away, there was a quiet rejoicing from their house (complete with in ground pool) up on the hill. It was only a couple of weeks later that I rolled up with the girl cave.

I'm sure they felt a twinge of the agony of defeat.

Look. If you insist on living in a town with more campsites than residences withn a ten mile radius, then you need to leave your uppity highfallootiness at the border.

I'm serving up a big heaping helping of the "if-you-don't-like-it-you-can-pucker-up-and-pick-a-cheek" of late.

And it feels kinda nice.


I've got crap to put away and supplies to order. I need to gt back in the swing of things, shop wise. I hope ya'll have an awesometastic weekend. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!