Mars Hill-billies

There are only 3 stop lights in our town. There are 5 barns on the road to our house. There's a cow pasture that borders our neighborhood. Our neighbors are good ol' boys and girls with accents that remind me of home. So, it's no secret that Mars Hill is far from a thriving metropolis, and I'm ok with that. Other than having to drive 30 minutes to the closest Wal-Mart, I really kinda like this slower pace of life. I do have to say, though, that living in more rural areas like this provides moments of randomness, like when the guy up the hill takes the neighborhood kids (and even their moms) for rides in the trailer behind his 4-wheeleer. Or when the local cows escape their pastures and end up eating our neighbor's grass. So, these things happen and we chalk it up to "country living".

But our most recent random happening takes the cake. Our neighbor has a large bank behind his house. He and his wife work long hours and, like most people, probably don't prefer yard work. So, as one who DETESTS weed pulling, I was actually jealous when I heard that he bought a goat to live on the bank and keep the weeds at bay. And, while most people I know own weed whackers instead of goats, this was yet another case of "country living"...

...until we saw him walking through the neighborhood. With his dog and his goat. Both on a leash. Twice. It's official. We've reached hillbilly status, here people.