Well, the brand new neighbor from California got here yesterday. Rumor mill cranked out some spot on information this time. She's a lesbian all right.
Jodie heard about it first. She rushed to our house and said we should ride over there right away and make sure the poor woman wasn't overwhelmed by a kinda reverse Beverly Hillbillies dynamic. Have I blogged about Ellie Mae and her rope belt yet? Maybe later. Better get back to telling you about the California lesbian who moved here to Kentucky.
So there we were, Jodie, Starr Ann and me, on a mission of mercy, hurrying to the aid of our new neighbor and hoping she wasn't sitting on her porch crying over the lack of smog, the abundant room to maneuver on our roads, and general slower pace here in the land of fast horses and fine whiskey. We figured the poor thing would be about hysterical by the time we got there.
We quick got together a few tomato and mayonnaise sandwiches, thinking that since she had kids and all, and probably didn't have any dishes unpacked yet, they were probably getting pretty hungry.
Anyway, about half a mile from the New Lesbian From California's (NLFC) place, we met up with a few girls from the softball team! Seems they had gone over to NLFC's place for a little meet and greet of their own. That was nice.
They all had these real far-off looks on their faces. I said to one of them, "Hey, Carly, what's the New Lesbian From California like?"
Carly's shoulders squeezed up close to her ears, and she said, real enthusiastic, "I don't think words could really tell you what she's like. Go on over and see for yourself." Carly, I have noticed before, is given to hyperbole and is quite impressionable.
Starr Ann said, "Whatcha got there in that covered dish, Mona? Did you take food over to the NLFC and she didn't want it, or something?"
Mona flushed a little pink. And Mona don't do that. She's the shortstop, for Goddess sake! Mona said, "No, this is something Lori, we get to call her Lori, whipped up to give out in case anybody dropped by. It's a chicken dish. Smells heavenly."
As they all floated off toward the softball field, the three of us looked from one to the other and applied the lesbian eyebrow raise liberally.
About another quarter mile closer, we encountered a few of the Saloon Ladies. They were carrying covered dishes, too. Angelique waved excitedly as they rushed toward us. She said, "No poker game up over the saloon this Sunday, ladies. Lori's having a big Texas Hold'em party at her place. Promises to be some night, I'll tell you that." The other Saloon Ladies nodded, and then they said they needed to get on back to the saloon before that fancy soufflé Lori had given them got cold.
Dang! We just hid the tomato sandwiches by a rock and figured we'd pick them back up on the way home.
Approaching from the hill to the north of her place, we could see there was a crowd gathered around the NLFC's paddock. Going up close, we saw why. The NLFC was putting on a little barrel racing clinic for a few of the lesbians who'd ridden over from the next county. One of the Next County Lesbians had a camera and gave us this shot of the NLFC riding her horse, Rusty.
Damn!
Once we finally got to meet the NLFC a little later, while she cleaned her tack, we found out she's awful nice, in a way-too-capable and threatening kind of way. It's hard to explain. Anyway, she's letting us call her Lori!
We never did pick up those tomato sandwiches. Some raccoon will have a nice dinner of them tonight. We were too full from the four course lunch Lori served after she finished showing us how to fashion a makeshift halter out of barn twine.
During lunch, which was all vegetarian and very tasty, Starr Ann said, real proud, "Margo has a blog. Writes in it every day."
Lori said that was very admirable. Then she added, "Writing my blog, Hahn at Home, has been such a freeing experience."
I about choked on an artichoke. "YOU'RE Lori Hahn? Of Hahn at Home?"
Lori smiled knowingly, yet indulgently.
Damn!
