Well, would you look at that… It’s been one whole year since Bully decided to make history by parking a Jurassic relic of farm equipment smack in my turf shed. At the time, I was fuming, the kind of fuming where even the dog knew to keep his distance.
But today? I can only laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. What was once an ordinary turf shed suddenly became an archaeological site, complete with its very own rusting monument to childish behavior and rural pettiness.
And just when I thought the saga had peaked, Bully only went and upgraded the exhibit a few months back. Out with the old dinosaur, in with a “newer” version! I’d say he pocketed a nice bit of scrap money for the last one. Never one to miss a deal, our Bully.
Honestly, who needs Netflix when you’ve got this kind of soap opera unfolding in real time?
So here’s to one year of the Turf Blockade Anniversary, a celebration of one man’s nonsense and one woman’s ability to laugh at it now. 🥂
Granny Frass (from beyond):
“Jaysus child, if he spent half as much time minding his own business as he does blocking your turf, the man could have built a palace by now!”
Mae 🧡
Previous posts about my turf war stories …
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