A Matter of Time

I live in a pretty remote location in North Carolina.  Though I still miss my old neighborhood and the great friends I have there, I’ve made wonderful friends here. They look out for me, fix things for me, and take good care of my dog for me.

But I’m pretty sure they still see me as the outlier. When you hear about tonight’s excitement, you’ll agree with them.

A little background

I’ve always lived in suburbs which means I’ve lived a pretty predictable, cookie-cutter life. I haven’t dealt with the excitement or danger of life in the city, nor have I wrestled with septic pumps or landfills.

But that all changed 2 years ago and I couldn’t be happier with my new way of life. The drive is long but the rewards are so worth it.

In the last 2 years I have seen more stars than I dreamed possible.  I’ve learned that I need very little and want even less.

I’ve also been screamed at by a toothless woman when my dogs escaped (she wasn’t wrong but still), I’ve become very accustomed to gun shots, and I’ve gotten used to finding geese, ducks, rabbits, and deer in my yard.

Commercial break

I also just bought this thing:

The Weed Razer

It’s a Weed Razer sold on a website with the best name ever, Weeder’s Digest. In theory, I will throw the Weed Razer into the lake, then pull it back so that the blades on it cut the grass growing in the lake.

Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t know lake grass was a bad thing. I didn’t even know it was a thing. But in my mind, lake grass = snake haven so the grass has to go. I’ve promised to record my Razer efforts.

Back to our story

Every night as I drive on winding roads to get home, I look for deer. They’re everywhere. Most nights I see at least 5 and some nights I see 20. I’ve learned to slow down and to be alert because Bambi’s got wheels.

Tonight I hit and killed a deer. I immediately called my neighbor Ron because I didn’t think the deer died on impact and I knew Ron has guns. I hated having to do that but it seemed the most humane thing.

Ron rode back up the hill with me where we found the deer, now dead, and I tried not to cry.

That’s when the dog-screaming lady showed up from nowhere. She terrifies me. I figure she could kill me and dispose of my body before anyone would even miss me so the fact that she’s walking up on the conclusion of my rotten week seemed both fitting and ominous.

She and Ron moved the deer out of the way because I’m a blubbering, useless suburban girl who has no intention of ever touching a dead animal.

The best part

So I’m crying over a nameless dead deer when the dog-screaming lady picked up my Mercedes emblem from the road and quietly said, “I think this is yours.”

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