Goodbye, city life!

Sometimes I long for the beige of suburbia.

                        Today when the turtle’s owner dropped him off at the house, she said “boy, I forgot just how far up this road you live.” Yea, it is far up. Way far up. Once this winter when it snowed, the snow started right where our yard starts. We’re way up there.

                    And living surrounded by trees and wild (and a donkey) has some real drawbacks. Most of them have multiple legs.

                    I know that when a bee or wasp finds its way into the house, it’s by mistake. Right? Tonight, not one but two bees (or maybe one bee two times) went to one of our big sliding glass doors and just started banging its little head against it. Like it was knocking. Or hoping to bust through the glass. I don’t know what is in here that is so appealing. Unless they can actually smell fear and figure I’m an easy target when they’re bored with the whole pollen gathering thing. Kaitlyn things they are banging on the door asking for their honey back. (You can buy almost as many kinds of honey here as you can wine. And Bill likes to try them. So we do have quite the pile of honey jars in the kitchen.)

                        Then I’m sitting here at the table and I look outside to see a little brown mouse just sitting outside its hole under one of our lawn chairs. It’s just looking around, cleaning its face. Then it ran off… well, sorta skipped off… to do whatever mice do. Which hopefully isn’t find ways into the house. That problem should be taken care of next week when workers come and pave over the areas outside the house currently coated in a thin layer of gravel. Or it will move the problem.

                        Yes, living in France is an adventure. I just didn’t realize that it would be an episode out of Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom.

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