Intruder (No) Alert

Saturday evening around 7:00, we heard a knock on the Mansion door. That is unheard-of! People who live out here do not drop in. Salesmen have not broached out enclave for 35 years or more. Not sure if it's the PRIVATE ROAD, TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED sign down by Mailbox Row. It didn't deter salesmen in the past. They'd creep in, make contact with a homeowner near the entrance, and then use them as a "reference" to explain why they were trespassing in here. 

Anyhoo... both Farmer H and Mrs. HM were shocked to hear a knock. Of course Farmer H got out of his recliner, where he was enjoying his post-supper Little Debbie giant Zebra Cake, to see who it was. From HIPPIE at the kitchen table, I heard Farmer H greet the intruder, and step out onto the porch. When he returned five minutes later, I asked for the details.

"It was SoAndSo."

"The one up next to the boys' land, who threatened to shoot you, and went to court because he threatened to shoot the county deputy who came to ask about the encounter?"

"No. The other SoAndSo. Up our road. From when we first bought the property. The Nudists."

"Oh! Are they still out here?"

"Yeah. He's 84 years old now! Wanted to know if I wanted a political sign for our yard." [I refrain from political discussions here, so we won't get into details.]

Heh, heh. I think there might be a little bit of irony here.

"Good thing you didn't have a shower tonight, and answered the door in your underwear! But then again, he WAS The Nudist!"

That's what everybody called them in the beginning. He and his wife were city people, who bought their 10-acre lot, and came down on weekends. The "NUDIST" name identifying them because they mowed their lawn while totally naked. Dang. That was 35 years ago. Maybe they still do...

Not sure why our dogs didn't alert us to the intruder. Maybe they sensed that he belonged.