Mr. Basket Maker Speaks: Enough Already

living-room-mcminnvilleShush! Lynne doesn’t know that I figured out how to make a post on her blog. You can say that I’ve hijacked The Basketmakerswife.com. Since I’m her husband I’m hoping that I won’t get into too much trouble by doing this. You just have to understand that there is only so much I can take. After all that has been happening with our new home purchase and now the sale of our current home, Lynne hasn’t been too attentive to her blog. It’s been crazy and Lynne hasn’t wanted to jinx the sale of our current home in Manchester, New Hampshire. She told me that she’s afraid to write any updates in fear that the house sale will fall through if she does!

Well, it’s a done deal this Thursday so she doesn’t have that as an excuse real soon. I know she has wanted to edit and proof everything, make sure the photos are cropped and all looking good, but there isn’t any time for that. She has been so busy packing AND doing all her design work for her clients. I don’t think she’s even slept a whole lot. And we have to get everything in a truck headed for Tennessee in just a couple days.

Now back to my main point. While in Tennessee a few weeks ago, we signed papers on a property. I wrote a quick post one evening for Lynne’s blog, but she didn’t post it. She said it was good, but it needed editing and she had to go through the photos and fix them.

Anyway, days went by and now we are back in New Hampshire. Day after day without a post from the basketmaker’s wife. Enough is enough! I have made an executive decision to post it unedited and hope for the best. I know I’m in big trouble, but I’m taking one for the team. Just ignore the punctuation and spelling and maybe the bad photos. Pray for me. -ET

This original, unedited post was written on the second night after signing the papers on this property:
I feel like Jeff Foxworthy is writing his next standup routine about us.
“You know you might be a redneck when your living room furniture consists of a car seat, an outdoor lounge chair and a cinder block used to hold your laptop.”

Literally, this has become our life. I’m typing this post from the removed back seat chair from our 2008 Honda Odyssey from a laptop sitting on a cinder block. You can’t make this up if you tried. It now is my choice seat in what was once a church in McMinnville, Tennessee. We call this Project McMinnville.

We just got internet hooked up yesterday. Trust me getting internet has been like Christmas. Going to McDonalds every morning was getting old after the first few days.
A lot has happened in a short period of time since this adventure.

We have been sleeping on a blow up mattress that was once a church altar. Disclaimer, Lynne really didn’t want to show actual photos of our primitive situation but I thought it was too interesting to not show you.

Chance our dog ran full speed through our barb wired fence for the first time in his life. He yelped and then laid on the ground. After careful inspection we couldn’t find any injury or blood. Somehow he went right between two strands of the wire without cutting himself and if you know chance he was going about forty miles an hour at impact.

Got to go Y’all. Nascar is about to start! (Trying to adapt to the Tennessee way of life!)

Please note Lynne is working on a new Rum label. She’s just not surfing.

What is that Smell?

*WARNING – the following image may be disturbing to some viewers. Please be advised. (Again, I warned you!)

chance-cow-pattie-farm

What is so disturbing about the above image? Well, let me tell you why.

As most of you know, Eric and I purchased a home and a building (that used to be a church) on five acres in the middle of Tennessee. Across the street from our property is a wide empty field. And beyond that, are many cows. There is one particular cow that seems to stray from the pack and sometimes finds herself on our property, chomping on the grass. I have named this pretty, wandering white cow Betty-Sue, after Eric’s first girlfriend and the last girlfriend he dated before me.

Anyways, back to my disturbing story. Out of all the five acres of land that Chance had to choose from to romp around in, he freely selected to rub the entire right side of his head, neck and a portion of his chest and right leg in a pile of cow poop.

Yes, that’s him after I discovered what he did when he came running up to me with such pride. I had to take his picture because he had not a care in the world. Even though he stunk to high heaven and I was running away from him, everything was right in the world for Chance.