We live rurally, near a small city. We enjoy driving through town during “rush hour,” listening to the traffic reports from Denver on the radio.
We think we’re pretty close to civilization, because it’s only 40 feet to the pavement, as opposed to our last place, where it was 20 miles.
We destroyed a local landmark. We live off a fairly busy 2-lane highway. Our house was pink when we bought it, but we hate pink and made it ivory. Turns out that directions frequently included things like “Three miles past the pink house.”
“Turn left and go to the stop sign” can be a distance of between two and twenty miles.
When we call the vet to get our mare’s teeth floated, she says, “Yeah, I saw she was looking a little thin.”
God bless us all,
Ruthie