Thursday, March 11, 2010

Top O' the Hill

I've thought so often that it is such a good thing that I live on the top of the hill with no neighbors above or close enough to see me.  Mark's comment (which cracked me up!) from yesterday just reinforces that thought.  Going for the layered look in winter will never get me invited to the Red Carpet, and I'm not going to discuss my summertime attire any further.  Suffice it to say that guests should give fair warning before they come to the door, lest we both be embarrassed.  Landing on my back in the wet chicken pen, feet in the air, was not a pretty sight.  Once upon a time, Steve got the idea to extend the water lines for irrigation, borrowed a ditch-witch, and dug trenches all over the yard.  He went on to other, more interesting, projects and I was left to go about my chores, walking along and then periodically leaping into the air to cross the ditches.  I thought at the time that were anyone watching, they wouldn't see the trench...only this bizarre woman with a bad tic.  It isn't hard to imagine what passersby would have wondered had they been able to see me sitting on the roof for an hour or so.  I'd gone up there to clean the chimney cap and discovered I couldn't reach the ladder to get down.  I know my friends whom I'd called to the rescue via cell phone got a good laugh.  Roaring and darting with arms spread as I play a game of  Catch Me If You Can with Bessie Anne might garner a few strange looks.  It's also a good thing I can't be heard.  Living with a sailor for close to twenty years, I did expand my vocabulary and, given the circumstances of the moment, can erupt like a veritable Vesuvius with a string of choice expletives pouring forth.  I also sing.  I sing to the goats a lot...and sometimes just for the fun of it.  Doesn't sound a lot better than the cussing.  Yup, it's a good thing I live on the top of the hill.

4 comments:

Kathryn Williams said...

You DO paint colorful pictures! Thanks...for the memories!!

Mark said...

Your blog stimulates my imagination. Next time you head for the roof take along a fake beard, a voilin and put your singing and dancing skills to work...If I were a rich man da da da da da da dadadadadadada...or smear a little soot on your face a try a Dick Van Dyke....Chim Chimaney Chim Chimaney chim chim cherie. We who read your blog know you are the "Goat Lady on the Hill" but I bet if your neighbors are watching they may be developing a different sort of legend. "Ya know I think that house up on da hill is kinda a strange place wher dat goat lady liv. I seen dem vultures lined up on da fence posts like dey was guardin da place un just waitin fer som un to come walkin up dat hill whil dey sit up der lickin der chops. Why just the oder day I saw hers dancin like a darkie castin voodoo spells un singin out some spells bout chinimerie..probly makes dem goats turn into Bigfoots or Yetis or sumpun cuz I know I saw one o dem Yetis waddlin up the driveway da other day, I know I did..strange thing was it was draggin a trash can...maybe she got em trained or sumpun. Un sometime u can see her in da pasture or round da house jumpin up in da air like she tryin to miss steppin in a cow pattie..she ain't GOT no cows! Yessirree, ya'll need to be careful bout goin roun dat place...strange things goin on up der!

Judy said...

I'm just happy you didn't fall off the roof!

Kathryn Williams said...

Mark, you are a hoot - thanks!