Cul de Sacs, Chickens, and Potholes

When we picked out the house we would eventually buy, I only paid superficial attention to the neighborhood. Actually, our primary concern with it was that the house we were buying was on the high end of value for the area and might not appraise at the asking price. Obviously, as we're living in it now, it did appraise at a level the mortgage company was comfortable with. We're still learning more about our neighbors, though, and it's interesting to observe from a distance - some nearer than we would like! - and draw some conclusions.

The First Reader wants a house on about ten square miles of land, smack in the middle. Also, blackberry hedges and cleared fields of fire, and... none of that was possible with this house search. I, like him, prefer to be out in the country. At least, as far as you can get in Ohio, which isn't terribly far. I spent most of my childhood in Oregon, Alaska, and then in New Hampshire, and in all those places mostly lived rurally. Sometimes, very rurally. Here? Now? We're a hundred feet from the nearest neighbor (across the road) and only slightly more from the neighbor to our East, because their barn/shop is in between our houses. It's not the closest I've lived to people, but near enough.

We chose the house because it allowed the Little Man to stay with his school, not because it was our ideal. On the other hand, it's a very nice house, with enough land for me to have a garden and backyard orchard, so we're not going to be unhappy. For one thing, we are at the penultimate location on a cul-de-sac, with woods coming right up to the 'sac' where we can sit on the front porch and observe the wildlife. The First Reader, who sits out there early in the morning reading, has seen fox and deer. I tend to sleep at that hour, so I have only seen the bunnies and squirrels. What both of us remark on are the neighbor's chickens. There are at least two of them - a Rhode Island Red hen, and an Auracana - and they wander loose at the other end of the road from us. Why, my dear husband wonders, has the fox not gotten them? Or for that matter, cars? He and I both have years of experience with fowl, and know how likely they are to dumb themselves right out of existence.

Part of the answer, at least, are the potholes. Oh, they won't stop the fox. That, most likely, is the little wheeled chicken coupe they sleep in at night. I haven't seen them do it, but the neighbors must lock them in during the sleep time. Back on the Farm, ours were either in a coop, or chose to sleep high in tree branches. If I didn't get them in the coop early enough, I'd have to go shake the strange fruit out of the trees and put them in safety. But the potholes do slow down the cars. Our little road is paved, at least back to the 'sac' and just chock full o' holes. Makes driving in the dark and rain interesting, because I haven't memorized where to be on 'this' side of the road, and where to turn 'there' and avoid them. Also means we don't ever have to worry about folks speeding down it and doing donuts at our end of the road. Things would break. Well, ok, some y'utes might try it. Once. There are perks to having a bad road.

It does mean that if someone drives all the way down to our house, they are either lost, or, in the case of this morning's visitor, looking for a lost dog. Poor lady. Hope her dog turns up soon, she sounded really exasperated about it. We knew the dog hadn't been there, even before we were outside, because our dog, and the neighbor's three, would have been going nuts. Although I could do with a stray dog to deal with all the bunnies... I can't grow parsley, I've discovered. Bunnies are convinced it's an aphrodisiac or something. They ate my plant flat down to the ground. Didn't touch any of the other herbs, but the parsley... I might try it again on the porch in a pot. The back deck, so the dog can keep the bunnies away from it!

We're settling in. I'm actually able to get some things done other than moving, work, and moving and work... It's a relief to find I have a bit of time for reading again. Maybe in time we'll meet more of the neighbors. I'm still trying to figure out if the people at the corner - the ones with the chickens - are related to the people across from us? They seem to share kids. There's about 8? 10? Hard to tell - swarms! - of small children living on our street. Six, we're told, belong across the street from us, and I've met one, who is in the same grade as my son. He says she's mean. I think she's sassy and I like her. Reminds me of me at that age.