It's Not All Bad

No, life in Appalachia isn't all bad. Sometimes, as you head into work, you get the cold and foggy morning with cows wandering in the middle of road. That's why I love the country.  I like such things. It's what country life is all about.
Of course, on my way home from work, I got to deal with the reason that I hate Appalachia. An old woman in front of me decided that they needed to use their cell phone. Now, everyone knows that using a cell phone and driving is dangerous. The hillbilly solution: Just stop driving. It doesn't matter whether or not you are in the middle of the road, or that there are people driving behind you. All that matters is that you aren't texting and driving.
Consider, if you will, the road you see in the photo. Ignore the cow for the moment. Imagine several population clusters using this road for their daily commute. See how far down this road you can see. Now, imagine the effect of someone stopped in the middle of the road using their phone.
To be fair, the woman was old, and in 1970, there were probably only 2 or 3 cars per day down this road, and if you did meet up with one, it was probably driven by one of your relatives. So, in 1970, it really wouldn't have been that dangerous. Of course, if you did meet up with one of your relatives, it was also a common practice to stop both of your cars in the middle of the road and have a chat. It didn't matter if you were blocking traffic. Anyone else coming along would have been a relative who wanted to join in the chat. If they weren't a relative, they didn't belong there, and deserved to be inconvenienced. Maybe she couldn't tell the difference between the chats she had from her car in 1970 and a cell phone.

I Hate Squirrels

Yes, I now hate those hyperactive balls of fur. I didn't always. I used to like them. They're cute. They love to frolic. They are a connection with nature. So, what's the problem.
The problem is that I moved to Eastern Kentucky. I blogged before about how Appalachia makes everything good turn bad. It appears that this rule applies to squirrels as well.
When I first moved to Appalachia, I had squirrels move into my house. Old Appalachian style houses have a lot of empty wall space. How much, I soon found out. A dray of squirrels living in your walls is no fun and causes lots of damage.
Then I moved to my current house. I was okay with the squirrels when I first moved here. They were fun and my house was new, without all of the empty wall space. What could go wrong? Squirrels tearing out window screens and taking out 3 vehicles over the course of a year could go wrong. I've never seen a vehicle downed by a squirrel before. I've had 3 in my yard in the past year. No, Appalachian squirrels are no fun.
As a brief aside, when mad cow was a thing, the government was worried about an outbreak in Eastern Kentucky because of all the cases here. It turned out to be due to the practice of eating squirrel brains, so the government stopped worrying about a contaminated food source. Personally, I think a mammal carrying the disease is a big deal, but what do I know? Maybe they thought only the lower classes would be effected and that that would be a good thing.

Return to Clinton County Kentucky

My situation in Clinton county Kentucky seems to be getting worse. I'm simply not going to be allowed to sell the property. It all started when my real estate agent showed the property. I showed up the following weekend to find the house broken into and dog droppings all over the floor.
Of course there were no dogs. They'd been left in the house for a few days to mess it up right after the hillbillies saw someone look at the house, and then removed.
When I showed up to the house, the neighbors three dogs came over to visit and the trailer people all came to their doorways and glared at me. When I went into my house, I saw the droppings of said dogs. Now, if I did anything to the dogs, who were on my property, and obviously the perpetrators of the mess, I'd be in jail for animal cruelty. Of course, that's better than showing up when the dogs are in my house. Then I'd have half a dozen hillbillies calling the cops and claiming that I stole them. In case you hadn't guessed from my previous posts, there is no real law in Eastern Kentucky. The law just wants to keep their numbers up and protect their buddies, so I be in the wonderful position of proving the hillbillies wrong.
In any event, when the law showed up, they gave me their standard answer. You have bad neighbors, move everything with any worth off of the property, get some cameras and get us pictures of them breaking in, and then we can do something.
Can someone explain to me why I'm paying taxes? I'm obviously not getting any benefit for my money. And Eastern Kentucky wonders why they can't break the generational poverty cycle. News flash. When people aren't secure in their property unless they are actively guarding it, then you are going to end up with a poverty stricken area.

Neighbor in the Trees

A fairly appropriate title. In my last post I wrote about my neighbor who seemed intent on proving that hillbillies shouldn't be left to walk around loose. Now, I shall tell you the story of the neighbor in the trees.
This one has been totally quiet for the last couple of years. He lives in a trailer on the top of a little hill, right behind my property and the hillbilly. He has a walking path about 200 yards long leading from his trailer to the road where his car is parked. It took awhile to figure out the property lines and who owned what. Actually, it took a trip to the county property office. Amazingly, he does own the top of the hill and the walking trail. When I bought this house, I thought that he was attached to the hillbillies and accessing everything through their property. Nope, he has a hilltop trailer and a walking path to get to his vehicle.
The reason I'm writing about him is his extreme quietness. I have never spoken to him. I've never had the chance. He seems to be spooked by people he doesn't know. Now, I understand this. I'm a bit wary of strangers myself. This neighbor carries this to extremes however. I've seen him hide behind a tree when I come out of the house. Imagine this. Going outside and having your neighbor hide behind a tree until you go back inside. I've also seen him arrive back home at the same time as I did. He sat in his car until I went inside. Since I had groceries on this trip, it took awhile. But he wouldn't budge until I was gone. Occasionally, I'll see him flitting back and forth, but he's careful. Even if he catches sight of you in a window he goes into hide mode. It's easier to spot a wild turkey.
I'm not complaining. I like quiet neighbors. It's just a bit strange.

You Just Can't Win

You just can't win, or at least I can't win in Kentucky. I moved a few years ago to avoid my old neighborhood. A wise choice, but I didn't gain much by it. I found a house in a subdivision that was undeveloped. It was a subdivision, so there were rules, or at least there were supposed to be. The place was undeveloped, so there were deer and turkey in abundance. The neighbors were quite. It seemed ideal. Okay, so it was a bit inconvenient, but a small consideration to get rid of the old neighbors.
Of course I forgot one of the first cardinal rules. Hillbilly idiots don't reveal themselves right away. They tend to hide and you don't see their stupidity until months latter.
One of my neighbors seemed nice. I didn't hear a peep out of them for months. They did keep a couple of annoying hound dogs who they let run loose to hunt things at night without supervision, but that was a small price to pay to avoid my previous problems.
I got my first indication of trouble when I had been here about six months. I needed to get my car towed and one of the first questions the driver asked me was whether I knew my neighbor. Then I got that enigmatic smile and no further information. Not a good sign.
I found out why about six months latter when my neighbor tried to start a trash service. Not what you think of when you hear the words trash service, but a service that consisted of said neighbor running around in his pickup truck and bringing everyone's trash back to the subdivision and then burning it in his yard. Of course, I soon found out that Wayne county Kentucky is as useless and corrupt as Clinton county Kentucky. Go figure. I got the state to come out, but that took a couple of days.
In typical hillbilly fashion, the neighbor stopped, but looked for new ways to piss everyone off. His latest project was to run a landscaping business and to bring all the tree limbs and brush home to burn. If he lived on a 100 acre farm, it wouldn't bother me, but in a subdivision? Of course, the county was just as useful as before and once again I had to get the state involved.
I seem to have a talent for buying houses next to problem neighbors.

Bigfoot Sighting or Another Reason to Pack Heat

Okay, so this isn't about a real Bigfoot sighting, but it is amusing.
I was driving through the Danial Boone National Forest one night. I was in a remote part of the Forest so is was deserted and dark. There are no street lights there and the nearest house was probably a mile or so away. I was having a pleasant drive and pulled up to a stop sign at an intersection. Suddenly, someone jumped out of the woods in front of my stopped vehicle (luckily, I had come to a full stop), looked at me, and then ran off into the woods on the opposite side of the road.
It was one of those amusing incidents that occur in Appalachia. Nothing to see here.
But you have to wonder. With all the tourists travelling through the area, and all the impaired locals driving around on a Friday night, just how many Bigfoot sightings has this guy been responsible for.