8.04.2014

old rides

The school bus cum chicken coop

The Buick (?) cum Pasture Pal
Since I come out to the Ozarks to enjoy splendid isolation (and a handful of real friends), I'm not much on socializing with the neighbors. But sometimes my curiosity—and their persistence—gets the best of me an I succumb to, say, a picnic. "I'm one of those people who thinks a stranger is just a friend you haven't met yet," said Randy (every man in Thomasville seems to be named Randy, a name I can't but deplore, or Rodney). So off I went to see the horses, the fruit trees, the above ground pool, the home-raised and home-canned pork, the wild plum wine stock, the persimmon moonshine and the old cars that inhabit the pastures and woods. Don't be a stranger!

5 comments :

Kate Knapp Artist Blog said...

how cool! how close by?

Claudia said...

Up the top of the hill. . .
You coming out to paint?

DaDa said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
DaDa said...

Not your father's Buick, but a Pontiac, probly a '63 Catalina

Dianne said...

Now aren't you glad you went?!