I got from home before 6 pm on this absolutely gorgeous day. It was a little breezy, but very warm and sunny.
I love coming home from work nights like this and sitting on one of my decks with a drink and a book. I can listen to the birds. My deck is hidden behind evergreen trees so you can’t see me from the road. It is one of my favorite places.
So, I got home at a decent hour and was all set to head outside with a drink in one hand, and my Nook in the other hand. But instead of a peaceful quiet evening, I was shocked to hear gunshots. Lots and lots of gunshots. There is a great shooting range about three miles away. But these boys seem to like target shooting at home. Granted, I live in the country. But one reason I live in the country is for the sounds of nature. Certainly not so I can hear the percussive sound of gunshots.
It’s either going to be a miserable summer for me or else the neighbors are going to see my bitchy side.
P.S. I don’t recognize these people when we run into them out in public. But Warren talks to them so maybe he can be my diplomat. Or, again, everybody gets to see my crabby side.