|Deputy Dave cutting a path with a machete to other side of land to shorten our hike.|
|Deputy Dave and his grand-nephew at Easter in front of our house.|
|Septic tank. Exciting stuff.|
More than that, when we were on our land, if Deputy Dave was on the backside of the land and yelled, I would likely not be able hear him, nor would anyone else. It would be unlikely, especially if the direction of the wind was working against us.
|Here is a little area we had previously cleared, but Mother Nature is ruthless and powerful. Ok, I love the baby pines.|
|His favorite past-time.|
|Spring fed lake directly at back of our property - we love it.|
However, we soon discovered that we could call 911 for an emergency, but our land was so raw that it did NOT have a 911 address. Without a "911 address" the emergency services we'd need would not be able to find us very easily. Not at all, especially not in the country.
Turns out, we learned that our acreage did not have a street address, it only had a "legal" address. I discovered this back in 2001 as I was trying to update my little black address book and discovered that I could not find a street address or a mailing address for our new property! What the heck? Didn't those come standard with any piece of property that you may have purchased?
|Winter shot - one very large tree has fallen upon another. More yard work!|
It's so lovely because our address is off of a FM road...a Farm to Market road. It is dreamy! My country address even has the word "FARM" in it!
By the way, in our area outside of Houston, we have very few Farm to Market roads. That's because there's no longer a need to take produce from the Farm to the Market. There's a Walmart on every corner and in between there are jam-packed stores of every kind. The farms have disappeared.
|One of our private roads winding deeper into the property. Don't attempt|
to drive this during the rainy season!
Of course, we had no idea that people in the country on this Farm Road would be so bored as to take a bat to our innocent brand new mailbox. I think those bored people NEED to move to the city!
I now understood why people in the country have boulders surrounding their mailbox. Let those trucks hit a boulder before it hits the mailbox.
Better yet, build the mailbox INSIDE of a boulder!
I seriously considered pulling sniper duty with a paint ball gun for a few nights. I'd sit still among the trees, well, I'd TRY to sit still among the trees and wait it out with my face painted green to blend in with my element. I had to reconsider this mental picture of revenge because of bugs and night creatures. The paint balls would have exploded all over their extended arm as they were getting ready to pummel my mail box, I'd take perfect aim at their flannel-fabric covered arm, and I'd make sure to paint-ball their beloved truck. How do I know they are driving a truck? Well, surely it's a truck since everyone in Texas country owns a truck. After they are splattered with bright orange, green and yellow, I would be laughing so hard that tears would be rolling down my painted green "camo" face.
|A city girl's camo.|
Then, I could put out a little sign next to my mailbox buddy the following day that says in big black letters, "Next time, those won't be PAINT-BALL bullets."
Oh well, it's a fantasy of revenge because it is so important to me to get all of my valuable junk mail.
Actually, my husband told me that those kids will grow up one day and have their own mailboxes vandalized and they will remember their own escapades. A new batch of teenagers will only take their place. These kind of things don't bother him much.
Why can't bored teenagers pull up to my lonely mailbox and jump out to plant beautiful flowers for me to suddenly discover in the morning light? I'd put out fresh cookies for them the next day, right on top of the mailbox. We'd all be happy and the world would be a better and brighter place with all those flowers and cookie-happy tummys.
Anyway, I'm happy to know that we have a 911 address and now the only problem is to make sure emergency personnel know where to turn --- in between all the trees. We have two entrances to our land from this FM road and we wouldn't want them six acres away from us on the other side of our land with a creek as a barrier in between us.
|The "other" side.|
|See the trellis? We own the other entrance, but this is not the part of land where we often stay.|
|At the FM road, so we better use a leash. Don't want to encounter another stray dog or perhaps...a jogger. Ha ha.|
First of all, emergency services in the country are pretty darn good and fast. Just think, they don't have speed bumps or traffic to hold them back.
|Don't blink or you'll miss the trellis!|
Whether I am in the city or in the country, I have 911 available at my fingertips. And, if we ever had a need to dial 911 from the country, we probably won't be laying in an emergency room alongside mutiple gun-shot victims. Well, in the country your emergency room neighbors just might be splattered with the contents of paint bullets, but the rainbow boys will be just fine.