Just Plain Nuts

.
I know, I know, some of our friends and family worry about us being out here on our own and wonder if we have any protection. Well, I have my own ways of doing things which usually preclude intervention on Mark's part when it comes to strangers stopping by. I learn well by observation and anecdote, you see. In this case, it was the experience and advice from a mutual friend of the Katlady's and mine. Bob had bought a small house cheap in a neighborhood which may or may not have been inclined to come back to respectability but the key was CHEAP entry price. I could never fathom living in what his friends called Fort Apache Newstead. I remember working in those neighborhoods on urban housing rehabs and the guys forever lamenting the loss of tools, etc., if they left anything unattended for more than a minute or two. And yet Bob seemed to survive it all with little trouble so I once asked him his secret. He said "People don't like to mess with crazy people. Every once in a while, I'll do a wheelie down the street, maybe aiming for a couple of the belligerent folk in the process, maybe shoot off a couple of rounds for no particular reason. Trust me, crazy just works, that's all." Hmmm, crazy does it, huh?
.
So ... when people who are clearly not regular gas field workers stop at the a Rat and wander towards the porch, I am the official greeter. Just me, no overly-friendly dogs to give away anything. Let's face it, they are already a little on edge when they approach something resembling a clandestine meth lab in the middle of absolutely nowhere. I walk out with a very welcoming grin and, before they speak, I say "You are lost, aren't you?" I follow it up with a bit of a head-back quasi-insane chuckle of appreciation, something just short of a genuine "Brou-ha-ha-ha!" Although they have probably never heard of the infamous family of cannibalistic McLeods of Scotland, they now notice the bone collection around the tatty front door. What I learned from realtors is that you only have one chance to make a great first impression and they guilt you into making your front door as homey and hospitible as any door in Colonial Williamsburg at Christmas. Yep, I figured that one out all right (see photo below).
.

.
Might we have them for dinner? Okay, so maybe the collection belongs to Brou and Daisy but the visitors don't know that, right? At that point, the front man will usually look back nervously at the person(s) waiting in the vehicle who usually step out to join him as a back up. I take this moment to carefully appraise the body language and movements of all parties and carefully assess my steps back to the door in comparison to their positions. So far, that hasn't been necessary and the people have been quite pleasant and appreciative of our help. But curiosity gets hold of them once they have established that we aren't about to Hannibal Lector them and someone invariably has to ask "S-o-o-o ... just why do you live out here in the middle of nowhere anyway?" I have to throw in one more nutso chuckle before replying "... because we're just plain nuts." They usually nod in a quiet understanding at that point.
..
.