Redneck Road

You'd think we'd get used to the places, since we see them every time we go toward Kansas City, but Cliff and I still laugh and shake our heads when we drive the three mile stretch of highway west of our home.  There are some decent homes along this road, but the good places seem to be outnumbered by the junky ones.  On the north side of the road, for instance, is sort of a junk yard.  Only nothing is for sale there.  I guess the guy who owns the place must be a hoarder of big junkie things.  

Some of the stuff has been there so long, trees have grown up through it.

Nice, eh?

Here we have somebody's little vacation getaway on the river.

This house used to be a filling station, long before I lived around here; it is neat and well taken care of by a bachelor who has made it his dream home.  On this tiny lot he has a few tractors, a Ford Mustang, a nice pickup, and several other man-toys that make Cliff envious of him.  His house is small enough that no woman will be tempted to move in and take over.  Sometimes when we drive past, he is sitting out front smoking a cigar with a look of total contentment on his face.    

And now, on the south side of Redneck Road:

Somebody's little piece of heaven.  I neglected to get the pigpen in the picture; it's just to the right of this shot, and houses about half a dozen rapidly growing piggies.

This is right next door to the preceding one.  

This is the porch and yard of a house that's less than twenty years old.  

So now you know why I call that particular stretch of highway Redneck Road.