The Farm, Day 1
*backdated for my own sanity*
My grandma can’t drive. I was about ready to take control of the wheel. Also, instead of following directions, she wanted to get off the expressway and find her own way to the farm. Because there was traffic.
Yes, there was traffic. That’s what we call it when there are other cars on the road. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it bad traffic, though. My grandma also complains when there are other cars in front of her at red lights, and tells everyone in the car “Would you look at this traffic? It didn’t used to be this way.”
Got here, met my great aunt and my first-cousin-once-removed. They are both very old and very, very loud, but overall friendly. Wandered around a bit, mistook some creepy birds for bats, looked around.
The relative who used to live here before he died reroofed the house with his initials picked out in a lighter color. So you look back at the house and you see a giant JH on the roof. It amuses me. There’s a small garden in the back with a lot of flowers, and also a ton of haystacks that look like they want to eat me. LS and I have amused ourselves by coming up with dramatic movie summaries involving evil haystacks, and taking pictures where it looks as if we have been eaten by haystacks.
“But little did they know… what behind the haystacks lurketh!!!!”
We have also been exploring the house. The barn is too scary to attempt entry (it hasn’t been used in years) and there isn’t really that much here. Already, I’m slightly bored.
I am sleeping in the basement of the house, but there are beds and so on, so it isn’t that bad. Someone started to remodel it, so there is a mostly-functional bathroom with a nice shower. Unfortunately, there is still dust everywhere, and little bugs all over the place. I’ve given up trying to squish them all, and instead give them piteous glances and stupid names. The one I saw in the bathroom a few minutes ago is named Clarence.
My grandma can’t drive. I was about ready to take control of the wheel. Also, instead of following directions, she wanted to get off the expressway and find her own way to the farm. Because there was traffic.
Yes, there was traffic. That’s what we call it when there are other cars on the road. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it bad traffic, though. My grandma also complains when there are other cars in front of her at red lights, and tells everyone in the car “Would you look at this traffic? It didn’t used to be this way.”
Got here, met my great aunt and my first-cousin-once-removed. They are both very old and very, very loud, but overall friendly. Wandered around a bit, mistook some creepy birds for bats, looked around.
The relative who used to live here before he died reroofed the house with his initials picked out in a lighter color. So you look back at the house and you see a giant JH on the roof. It amuses me. There’s a small garden in the back with a lot of flowers, and also a ton of haystacks that look like they want to eat me. LS and I have amused ourselves by coming up with dramatic movie summaries involving evil haystacks, and taking pictures where it looks as if we have been eaten by haystacks.
“But little did they know… what behind the haystacks lurketh!!!!”
We have also been exploring the house. The barn is too scary to attempt entry (it hasn’t been used in years) and there isn’t really that much here. Already, I’m slightly bored.
I am sleeping in the basement of the house, but there are beds and so on, so it isn’t that bad. Someone started to remodel it, so there is a mostly-functional bathroom with a nice shower. Unfortunately, there is still dust everywhere, and little bugs all over the place. I’ve given up trying to squish them all, and instead give them piteous glances and stupid names. The one I saw in the bathroom a few minutes ago is named Clarence.