Belly Acres Farm

Belly Acres Farm

Friday, January 16, 2015

Have I mentioned I like to SHOOT THINGS---The Bluebird Blog

If you read an earlier blog, you know the adventures of Mimi and getting to shoot her gun.  Were you skeered when you read it?   If not you might me after this one.

But a quick update on how and why I ended up at the end of the dirt road at Belly Acres.   I am a city girl,  lived on the same street for 99% of my first 52 years.  I was used to seeing my Mom, Dad, kids and grandkids, Grandma, Aunts and Uncles and the rest of the clan daily.  I married Superman the country boy and he was precious, he agreed to live on the Mayfair Commune street.  Ask anyone,  I always said I could never ever ever live in the country.  I had to be within 5 minutes of every fast food place and the walmart.  I couldn't imagine not seeing the grands everyday.  

Just over 3 years ago, his mom passed away and at the same time our boy child was expecting his first child and needed a place to live.  My girl child bought a home and moved out of the hood at this same time.   I have always heard no one knows the sacrifices you will do for your children, but now I do.  I called Superman at work one day and told him we were moving to the country.  I am pretty sure he thought I had been into the cough medicine or had got a hard lick on the head when I said that.  The words came out and I was committed but crumbling on the inside.  (No one knows this up till now)   I immediately started packing 35 years of accumulated junk and that weekend we moved.  I do pretty much enjoy it up here but get so homesick even three years later.  I can't help it, my Mayfair home was the home Superman and I worked so hard to make ours. I even thought of the name "Belly Acres" because I seemed to belly ache to myself all the time about what I had done.  Enough of that I am welling up and soon will be slinging snot if I cry.


When we moved up here Superman knew I needed some type of protection and I hadn't done well with a shotgun at home so he bought me a single shot and a box of bullets.  (red ones I think).  I love blue birds and I loved bluebird boxes.  One day I noticed this married couple of bluebirds fluttering about their nest but wouldn't go in to feed their babies.  I finally grabbed a chair to be able to think better to figure this out.   All of a sudden I seen this big ole honking snake stick its head out. For Heaven's sake, what was I gonna do,  never had this problem in the city.   I called Superman at work, he was 2 hours away, what could he do?  I called my brother in law but no answer.  I sat and watched for a bit and felt so sorry for Mr. and Mrs. Blue.   I bet you know what I did next.

My "Possum" dog


I went in and grabbed my single shot and went to the other hidden place for the red shot gun shells and here I go,  snake hunting time.   I sat and got me a good aim waiting for him to stick his head out again.  Ready.......there it is  KABOOM.......missed his head but blew  a hole the size of a baseball in the birdhouse.  Run back inside, grab another red shotgun shell and back out to decide what to do next.  He was a flipping and a flopping inside there and I got a little closer and realized how big that sucker was.  He couldn't get out and he wasn't dead.  Now I am not one to see anything suffer and I knew I had to finish the job.  So I got even closer and aimed for the hole I had already shot  KABOOM....completely new hole but about the size of a grapefruit.  And the bird house came tumbling down.

My dog Possum, yeah weird name was going bat-poop crazy.  When the bird house hit the ground, El Grande snake came tumbling out, it had to have been 30 or 6 feet long.  I had hit it in the belly so baby blue birds were falling out and stupid Possum dog was trying to grab them which I thought was gross.   So I am screaming and kicking at him,  shaking a gun and trying to think all at the same time. I managed to go grab a shovel to get all this mess out of the yard.  Imma tellin' you.....parts of snake, bluebird house and baby blue birds were blown to pieces. 4 trips later with that shovel and everything was gone.

I was so proud of myself, this was better than the chicken hawk hunt,  I did all this and didn't once fall down.   Since day one, it has been an adventure every day.   I would love to end with the news that I have got much better hitting my target....but I can't lie.    Peace, love and snake grease to you.