First up my recommendation for naming the little royal bugger: Nelson. In honor of Nelson Mandela. Now I don’t want to hear another word about it.
Farm life requires the proverbial early to bed, early to rise. Chores do not wait and to stay even (I’m not sure you ever get ahead) you better be up and at ’em. Squeeze in a run, and the morning is gone. Hearty lunch, nap, and back at it until supper. Maybe Nebraska really is the Good Life after all.
Our Little Slice is taking some getting used to though. Not just the work load, but getting a feel for the general pulse of the neighborhood. Each home owner has their own reason for being here but the common bond is Privacy and the capacity for Real Labor. We are all on cordial, even friendly terms on the street but respect the “home is the castle” mantra. You don’t just go up and knock on a door and expect a warm welcome. All have dogs, all have guns.
We were told to feel free to control varmints as we see fit on our own property, no questions. The frequent gunshots we hear lends a better understanding as to why there are so few fences necessary around the gardens. And if the occasional turkey or rabbit ends up in the stew pot, well all’s the better. I’ve sighted the Western Field 12 gauge, dead eye just like my old man. Linda is adept with the Ithaca .22 caliber long rifle dad gave her, a little more practice with the Mauser Luger and she’ll be up to community 2nd Amendment standards on all counts.
She’s no Phoebe Ann Moses yet, but Linda is fitting right in with the Pioneer Spirit.
Thanks to Logan Watley for the correction to yesterday’s description of prize money at the DTRA 5 Mile. The 100-75-50 breakdown was for “Columbus Bucks”, the USATF prize money was $75-$50.
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