We were out on a beautiful Sunday afternoon drive today and Todd remarked about how green everything is. Just recently he was in California for a few days, and he reminded us what it's like to fly across the country, watching the terrain change so drastically.
Once you're ten miles out from the CA coast, you're pretty much in flat, dry, desert terrain, and it's like that until you hit Oklahoma. From then on, the view gets greener and greener until you get to Maine, where the intense green mixes with the deep blue of the ocean, by way of islands and inlets. Unless of course it's winter, but that's a whole 'nuther story.
Anyway, we were talking about how easily and quickly things grow here, compared to various other parts of the country. We marveled at the flower gardens, the green meadows, and of course the trees. The trees which are so thick, one can easily get lost in the Maine woods - even when quite close to civilization.
And then, as the conversation lulled, somebody said... "Except at OUR house."
At our house, the flowers are wimpy, the vegetables gasp for life, and the lawn looks sickly. Of course the trees are fine. And the weeds. The weeds seem to LOVE our sandy soil. At this remark, Todd declared that we live in a dead zone; that all of Maine is a prolific growing mecca, while our little 1/2 acre patch of property is existing in another dimension.
At this, our daughter pointed out that maybe that's why our cell phones work everywhere in the entire COUNTRY (even on remote, above-timberline mountaintops in Colorado and in the middle of lakes in rural Maine) but not in our house.
The conversation pretty much ended right there.
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