Neighborly reciprocation...

All day yesterday I heard a banging, clanging racket coming from outside the trailer. I was tucked into my home office (the only room in the trailer with decent heat during winter) and so I declined to peek outside. Sounded like tree branches were flinging against my trailer. A few times it even sounded like somebody was vigorously jiggling the back screen door, as if they were trying to open it. No thank you, weirdo neighbor! After several hours, the bang-clanged abruptly stopped. And today I ventured out to look at the evidence of neighborly trespassing. Turns out she had thrown all her scrap branches from the recent wind storm onto my lot. She knows I've been spying on her shenanigans, an

Zombie Deer

It's finally here. The zombie uprising. But luckily for the deer of Lopstick, Montana is ground zero for the zombie deer uprising. Much of the USA's wild deer population gets time to make their escape. But for wild Montana deer and other scattered herds, this guide will come in useful!

An early spring, an early confrontation?

As Punxsutawney Phil predicted an early spring, my scheduled neighborly confrontation came early as well. I was awake last night, the lulling rhythm of my neighbor's pounding notwithstanding. With the unseasonably warm weather, I had spend the day dreaming about all the lettuce seeds I would be planting in my garden after the last frost of the season. Actual asleep dreaming--it's when I have my best dreams. And so that night the pounding was more annoying that not. As she pounded the hours away, I gathered my resolve to finally have a proper neighbor-to-neighbor conversation with her. At the stroke of midnight, I buckled into my hiking boots and puffy coat and out the back door I tromped. Bu

Neighbor at night.

For the past several weeks I've been hearing a persistent pounding noise at night. It's coming from my neighbor. During the daylight hours, she's tucked away in her trailer. But come the night, she ventures out and hammers away on what look to be lengths of wood. So far no structures have appeared in her yard, wooden or otherwise. In fact, the only time I see the boards is when I peer out of my mudroom window at night and spy on her driving nails into the two by fours. Come the light of morning, all the wood so gone. Does she tuck it in the crawlspace under her trailer? And why does she only hammer at night? Come spring I shall catch her outside and ask her why she fills the night with her

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