Our canyon overflows with small-town charm, but it’s charm with a razor’s edge, the kind that comes when you butt up against the stomping ground of mountain lions.
I must know where you live. It’s a tourist attraction of real America. The dichotomy is hilarious. Do your kids know what’s *really* going on in their neighborhood?
Interesting town for sure. If I lived in your house there, I would go out and immediately buy a metal detector and start looking for coins in your floor, under your house and all around the house and area. People tend to lose loose change when they, you know, change clothes and things....and of course, are betting with gold coins from treasure chests buried by Jessie James and his gang.
I feel like I can see collars on your mountain lions. If so, you might be under some type of surveillance by your neighborhood "association". Best be careful of what they see. They may have a cameras around their necks.
Be safe out there, and please never send me an invitation to come and visit.
I love your magical canyon too. Just waiting for you and Andy to open your woodworking booth at the craft fair with “live love laugh” signs.
Our signs would say Live, Love, and Put Cosby in Prison.
This was so good Norm. It reminded me of Prescott. Right before we moved, we saw huge mountain lion paw prints in the snow in our back yard.
I can still remember the smell of Prescott—pine from the trees and smoke from the wood-burning fireplaces.
I must know where you live. It’s a tourist attraction of real America. The dichotomy is hilarious. Do your kids know what’s *really* going on in their neighborhood?
Yeah, my kids are pretty astute. Say what you will about street smarts. They have canyon smarts and it seems to be working for them. ;)
Interesting town for sure. If I lived in your house there, I would go out and immediately buy a metal detector and start looking for coins in your floor, under your house and all around the house and area. People tend to lose loose change when they, you know, change clothes and things....and of course, are betting with gold coins from treasure chests buried by Jessie James and his gang.
I feel like I can see collars on your mountain lions. If so, you might be under some type of surveillance by your neighborhood "association". Best be careful of what they see. They may have a cameras around their necks.
Be safe out there, and please never send me an invitation to come and visit.
Ooh, a metal detector. That’s an inspired idea. Gonna have to look into that.
Yeah, this lion is collared. Using lions as a warped neighborhood watch…? Hmm, there’s a thriller story somewhere in that. ;)
"The first act of violence occurred when somebody was slapped upside the head with a wicker peace sign." That's what you call GENUINE irony, folks.
Irony is my favorite thing. It’s up there with laughing babies, Mark Twain, and any conversation that begins with, “Did you hear the one about…”
All that fun and not one mention of MAGA.
Whenever I consider mentioning politics, I come back to the word “funny” and recall that “fun” is the root of that word, and then I pivot. ;)
Oh gee, did you have to go and ruin this?....However, I admit I actually I was thinking there probably is a maga camp in this lovely little place.
Sounds like a fun place.
It slaps. So says my kids.
Hmm... not familiar with that one, but I guess it's like being "lit" or "sick." It's hard to keep up with these terms.
Yeah, the first time I heard it, my son said, “This chocolate milk slaps.” I took a sip, and then I agreed. Context is everything.