Our Lane  by Larry & Mary

Being concerned about leaving our farm house and equipment while in the city, we tried to make the beginning of our lane that comes off a gravel road unnoticeable. The lane is about 1/8 mile long with scattered trees on one side, and a tree lined ravine on the other. You can't see the house until you are about a third of the way down the lane, so we decided not to mow that part or the entrance. And, of course, there wasn't a mail box. If the lane was noticed at all, it appeared to be an access to a field. Being told by service people that they had driven right on past, we had confidence that our plan was working. We parked our car near the entrance whenever we were there and knew someone was coming.

Our neighbors are trustworthy, and we left them a key to the house. However, there are scoundrels everywhere. For instance, the widow who sold us the farm, moved after her husband died, and rented out the place for a few months. These renters stole her blind. They were unmarried and had two small children; thus the mystery solved of the odor of spilled milk or vomit in one of the bedrooms.

We were also jokingly told that during their stay, the county sheriff came down our road more often than the school bus! No details, except that the man was a registered sex-offender. We found a driver's license and several credit cards above the cupboards. 
  

                   We don't have a photo of the entrance to the lane. We wish we did, but who would think to take one of weeds?           tires 

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