Foggy Mornings, Brains, and Beans

My farm is slap-dab in the Appalachian Mountains.

That means the view is awesome, the climate divine, and the people here are warm and friendly.

That also means that when I moved here, I found myself living in a place rich in its own unique, special traditions. And music. Oh the music and traditions of Appalachia!
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Barn Peace

Dear Snake:

You are hereby notified to vacate the premises as of 8/7/2013.

While I am certain that you have enjoyed your residency here in the barn in years past, I must now insist that you leave. Immediately.

Your very presence is causing me great mental anguish. When I accidentally picked you up the other day, mistaking you for a stick, I thought I was going to die. In addition, you pose a threat to my chickens and the eggs I hope they one day produce. You have greatly interfered with my relationship with my magnificent horses as I now am afraid to enter the barn. You have, quite frankly, stolen my barn peace.

I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you. And please know that I greatly appreciate any rodent eradication efforts you might have engaged in while residing here.

You have until midnight on the date stated above to be vacate.

I mean you no harm, only the best of luck.


Rebekah, The New Farm Owner

(who finds you intriguing and wants no harm to fall upon you, but cannot find the courage to share the barn with you. Can. Not.)

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