Crop Squirrels

Yesterday afternoon there was a small disagreement at the Black Squirrel Ranch between myself and the ranch hand – Mr. H. It’s bound to happen every once in a while. So when I left the house in the evening, he had no idea where I was going. And I, of course, swore I’d told him that I had plans.

 Typically when men and women fight, one or both parties go off to get completely hammered via the alcoholic beverage(s) of their choice. I just hide the key to the gun safe and make sure I haven’t missed a payment on Mr. H’s life insurance policy(s). (He doesn’t have to know about the “(s)”).

I took off for our friend Roman’s house. First, I wasn’t running away from home. I was cooled off by then – but still had my “keys and papers” safely tucked away. Secondly, Roman is an Amish friend who I’ve been helping by designing a brochure for his candy business. This is all completely irrelevant information.

As I was driving home talking on the phone, rehashing the entire day – and anything else we could think of – with my bff, I pulled into the driveway and saw Mr. H on the lawn tractor in the large field in front of our house. Our driveway is extremely long so I had plenty of time to gape. When I saw him turn a circle in the field I began to laugh so hard that Seneca (aforementioned bff) could no longer understand any words coming out of my mouth. However, before hanging up, I uttered “crop circles.” This is not the strangest thing I’ve uttered to her while driving. (If you’ll recall from the “Arizona chronicles,” I actually said to her once – while grabbing for my gun: “Shots have been fired up ahead. Gotta go.” Ah, but that’s for another time.

Contrary to what Seneca thought Mr. H might have drawn in the grass (considering the earlier exchange, possibly the image of a finger expressing that I am #1 in his book), he spelled the words “Black Squirrel,” in 20-foot letters after the name of our little farmette.

Part of the word "Squirrel" mowed into the field. Go ahead, fly over:

I bet you'll find the place....