Jimspeak

More funky mambo-jambo going on here.

Last night when I arrived back at the farm, I still had our loaner Little Red Truck (K&C, the old owners of the farm and current owners of the LRT and for whom we are house-sitting) let me keep it to drive home after dinner at their place. Which was nice, since C, who is now living there, was the reason we got it in the first place. Back to the story...

One of the Bs's 5 vehicles, the Isuzu Trooper (the new fancy non-truckish variety, not the old sturdy off-roader it used to be), was in a new place. As I pulled into the steep down-hill of a driveway, it appeared to be parked across the driveway, blocking my way. Fortunately there was just enough room to pull by it on the right and up to the house. But it has never been there before and seemed a bit suspect.

This morning, D and I discovered that the downstairs studio (where I spent many nights hiding from the Mute and where C and E lived up until yesterday) was locked. In all my time here it has never been locked and I was always told I could use it any time I wanted.

Our beer is still in the fridge there. She-B knows this, as D just barely got in there to start grabbing C's food (some of which she bought herself, despite the agreement here being that the Bs buy our food) to put into our fridge (and the beer). She-B seemed annoyed that he was doing that, and said she'd have to look thru it to 'divy things up'. See, they buy us food but ration it out to us, I guess so that we don't over eat (or eat our fill more than once a day). A very fishy, and annoying move.

And they wonder why people have left here with a less than stellar impression of them. Self-analysis is a tough thing to do...