Hillbilly War

My hubs and I used to live in the city. For three whole years. For me, it was fine. Nice. Normal. I grew up in the city. I like noise, exhaust fumes, listening to the angry arguing of the neighbors next door. My favorite hobby was going for walks at night and peering in through their windows to see how other people lived. (Don't misinterpret, dear internet. I peered from the sidewalk, I did not creep through the bushes and press my nose against the glass. I am a redneck, not a perv.) For my husband, this was tantamount to torture. A transplanted farmer, with no farm. An unhappy match indeed.

So off to the country we moved. Five miles down the road from the family farm. Five miles down the road from his mommy's apron strings. At first I thought this was a bad thing. I now appreciate this for the gift it is: a built in babysitter, and a fully-functioning, free restaurant. What is not to love?

There are drawbacks to living out in the sticks. We are miles from any hospital. Problematic. I have to drive the kids miles to the nearest child's home for a playdate. No walking to the nearest convenience store for a treat. No Starbucks or Tim Hortons. And we live in a heavily treed area. I am just waiting for a forest fire, or for a tree to fall on my house.

The biggest drawback is my neighbors. For me, having humans living near me is a good thing. I can't see them, but I know they are there. Comfort in numbers, right? It is me vs. Nature, and to be frank, nature is ahead.

My husband however, is annoyed because you can occasionally hear them. They have a teenage boy who likes to rev his engine (in more ways than one, I'm sure) and the parents aren't the most happily married folks, if you catch my meaning. For those of you who need it spelled out: THEY SCREAM LIKE BANSHEES ARE RIPPING THEIR LIMBS OFF WITH BUTTER KNIVES.

But it was nice to take a piece of big city life with me, to here, my home out in the countryside. Until last night. When they kept me up all night, having a tractor orgy next door. I don't know what the hell was happening over there, but until 3 a.m. large engines and chainsaws were roaring through the night.

My patience has run out. The gauntlet has been thrown. The white glove was slapped in my face. It is ON. How, I don't know. But I do know, I am a city-girl at heart. I can outfox these hillbillies. I am going to make them wish they never laid eyes on this pretty, little redneck.

But it'll have to wait for tomorrow. I need some shut-eye first.

**Stay tuned for the upcoming post of the time when the aforementioned Hillbilly neighbor peed on my slippers- while I was wearing them. I shit you not.**