You might live in the country [aka, the KAWN-tree] if you see your neighbor in the bushes with a flashlight and a gun at 9:45pm on a Tuesday, and you know exactly what he's doing: killin' armadillers, of course.
You might live in the kawn-tree if said neighbor then calls you at 10:00pm to victoriously announce that he has indeed executed yet another flower bed-digging monster (and your family cheers in celebration).
You might live in the kawn-tree if your neighbor yells across the half-acre of property between your houses, "We're winning the fight!" And you know exactly what he's talking about.
You also might live in the kawn-tree if you see deer walking up your driveway.
I love the kawn-tree. It's exciting 'round here, what with all this nature.
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My uncle (who lives next door with his family, who lives next door to my other uncle, who lives next door to my great aunt, who lives next door to my first cousin and her brew all on our 142 acres in Odenville, AL) called us earlier to inform us that he'd killed the perpetrator who has been digging in the garden that separates our houses. Of course he's referring to an armadillo. My family cheered. I feel like this blog was written by me. You got into my mind. How?
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