Nice people ask permission first.

 

These last few days of my vacation, which are also my husband's first few days of vacation, have been spent doing yardwork.  We put in a railroad flat of tomatoes.  We built a stone planter around the stump of a catalpa tree.  ( before and after picture later. . . .)  We planted blueberries and blackberries and all kinds of raspberries and a hardy kiwi vine.  We sprayed poison ivy with SuperKillerStuff.  We started to fill the large sinkholes in the front yard with topsoil.

 

Today, we filled the planter with dirt, and shoveled the rest of the truckbed load into the sinkholes.  We still need about four truckbeds of topsoil to level off the ground.

 

In southern Indiana, everybody's yard has the potential for sinkholes, because we are on the top crust of a honeycomb of limestone caves.  This town is, after all, the Limestone Capital of the World.  The Chamber of Commerce likes to brag that we've supplied the stone for every major project except the Pyramids, and there's a funny story about pyramids in this county which I'll relate later, unless Wes beats me to it on his blog. There are large quarries, in use and abandoned, all over this part of the state.  There's a big abandoned quarry less than a mile from my house, in fact.  Hub and I used to set up targets and do some shooting in there, until the FOP took it over for their target practices. 

 

When you visit me this summer, do not worry about the guns.  They are locked up tight in a room that is also kept locked up tight.  There are NO guns anywhere else in the house.  This is a rule we abide by even though our own kids are grown and gone. 

 

If you come in the fall, you might want to bring your own gun, (if you fly out, you can use one of ours) because you can sit on the deck and pick off a deer.  You don't even have to stand up.  We've never hunted on our property, ourselves  (BAMBI and his MOTHER!!!!!!!!) but we have allowed friends to do so if they ask permission first, which any decent person would of course do anyway.  Rumor has it that the deer will be so numerous this fall, even the city people will be shooing them off the front porches.  One year, a deer jumped the fence at the city park and leaped right into the pool.  And deer are all over the golf course down the road.  Sometimes, a herd will congregate in the middle of the road, backing up traffic from both directions. One morning, I opened my front door and surprised a deer that was eating my flowers right on the front porch.  The deer are so bold here, they don't even run when we open and shut the car doors, or walk across the yard, any more.  Often, the deer will lie down on our basketball court in the back yard.  I will look out the kitchen doors and see five or six there.  The cool concrete must feel good on their stomachs.  Sometimes, the cat will be lying with them.  They do not run away even when we go out on the deck to watch them.

 

If you try to hunt here without asking us first, however, rest assured that we will call the cops; they are, after all, just down the road shooting things.  Poachers are scum.

 

Oh, and if you build a tree stand in my yard without asking me first, don't act all shocked when I tear it down and set it on fire.  Poachers are scum.

 

Ring my doorbell and ask me nicely without a gun on your shoulder if I can spare any quail, and I will probably tell you go go ahead and have fun.  Try to carry some off without prior notice and I'll call those same cops.  See above two paragraphs concerning 'scum.'

 

It's not just the game animals, either, that turn people into freaks of nature.  We used to have a giant strawberry patch, and on Sundays there would be the occasional CHURCH VAN full of old people, that would park up on the road and all the oldsters would trot down to my strawberries and help themselves.

 

"Oh, honey, we've picked here at this patch for YEARS!"

 

But, but, we live here now.

 

"We won't be long."

 

However, the men who drive their tackle-laden trucks down to my door and ask if they can gather up some catalpa worms:  be my guest.  Take all you want. (best bait ever, in case you were wondering.)

 

The strawberry patch is gone now.  We built this house on it.

 

We still have a few catalpas left.  Come and get all the long green worms you want.  Have a fish fry.

 

The deer are everywhere.  Come on over during the season and pick one off.

 

You can help yourselves to the hickory nuts and black walnuts, too. 

 

Item:  I have never eaten venison or any other game meat. 

 

Item #2:  When are you coming over?