I was surprised a man approached me near the cafe as he walked in for breakfast. I recognized him as the one who took over the iron-worker’s shed halfway up the steep hill. In the past few weeks, he greeted John and me with several sentences of a Southerner’s standard greeting as we walked past. (“How y’all doin’? Mighty fine day! Y’all have a good un!”)

Today he said, “I wanted ta tell ya ta be careful. T’other day y’all just got past my place, an’ a cow came bustin’ outta the woods. Run right across the road inta the cornfield. Ya need to be aware of what’s goin’ on around ya. Ya never know what’s gonna happen with animals around here.”

Please note that I am not making fun of his accent, because I sound a lot like him, only at a higher pitch. Blogger Kate Crimmins (https://coffeekatblog.com/) can vouch for that after I jangled her ears with my normal speech. Kate herself sounds like a normal person with a nice Pennsylvania accent.

I thanked him, and we had a good laugh over crazy animals that get loose in the area.

Going up the hill, I stopped to chat with Nancy at the first house on the right. She had been concerned at not seeing us for several days. I found out the big RV parked in the yard belongs to her niece from Missouri. She and her husband and crazy dogs are going to move here and open a commercial cleaning business.

Toward the top of the steep hill, next-door-neighbor Dawn stopped her car and wondered why a vehicle with a flashing yellow light turned around in my driveway. The only thing I could think of was someone delivering the newspaper. I came home to find papers for three days in the box. A sheet inside explained that our carrier quit, and another person will deliver to us after doing his own route. With news three days old, we might as well be on Colonial time.