Mr. T and John D.

Alrighty, so I was totally inspired to write something by today's SITS featured blogger, John Deere Mom . You've got to get over there (after you read my stuff), cuz this lady makes you want cows and 25 cats and surprisingly want to listen to Who Let The Dogs Out. Mostly, she makes you laugh out loud (and very early in the morning when everyone else is still asleep) and it's fun to laugh that hard...AND good for the stomach muscles. Gotta get the exercise in.

So yeah...quick John Deere related story for you.

A few years ago we lived in the suburbs of San Antonio. A nice little quiet community. Except for our ever so entertaining neighbor, Mr. T and his family. They were not so quiet. Or tidy. Or right in the head. Mr. T was a big, heavy-on-the-southern-drawl, man. Who liked to walk around without wearing a shirt. He was a boisterous guy...absolutely no volume control. Just loud. He didn't talk, he yelled. I don't know what his kids names were, cuz he just called them, "BOY!!!" and "GIRL!!!" --very King of the Hill. He had a pool that he would frequently find rats bathing in. Yep, rats. His yard was a jungle of palm trees and overgrown weeds and grass. Tick city. Yet, he had a John Deere. Even though his front yard was the size of a postage stamp (as is usually the case in SUBURBIA). We'd frequently find his 3-yr-old, BOY!!!, barefoot and pull-up clad, driving that John Deere in circles around our one and only tree in our postage stamp of a front yard. Completely unsupervised. I fully expected a John Deere to come crashing into my kitchen on a regular basis. His back yard had even less grass. Mostly garbage piled up waiting for him to burn. Yes, burn. The fire department had been out there...OFTEN. We had a Green Belt behind our homes. It had the potential to be very peaceful back there, no traffic, or neighbors yard backed up to ours. But no. That's where Mr. T would go to burn his garbage. Huge...gasoline lit fires back there. There'd be ash flying all over (and landing on our roof). It looked just like snow. Yeah.

So needless to say, we moved. We didn't mention Mr. T at all to the realtor, the potential buyers, when asked about the neighborhood. After all, no one warned us. Besides, they get their front yard mowed. Bonus.

So thank you Angie at, John Deere Mom. Thanks for reminding me of Mr. T and his John Deere. I've needed to get that one out for a long time.