why-is-there-a-decapitated-head-in-my-yard

Jul
2008
20

Why is there a decapitated head in my yard?

why-is-there-a-decapitated-head-in-my-yard

Bet that title made ya sit up and take notice.

When I lived in Butte, Montana, I lived in an incredibly old and dilapidated trailer that my parents had hauled with them from Phoenix. Before I resided therein, it had been rented out to an odd assortment of people and for the most part we have had to evict them all for either not paying the rent or doing insane amounts of drugs while living within. However we did have this one very sweet old lady who lived there for a period of a couple of years and while she lived there a rather unfortunate accident occurred on the road outside her trailer.

At around two in the morning my da received a rather unusual phone call from one of our tenants. The little old lady had apparently had woken up in the middle of the night and was in her kitchen getting a drink of water when she had looked out her window and very nearly had a heart attack. There was a head on her lawn, in amongst her flower beds. My da was relatively sure that she had gone off her rocker but he agreed to call the cops for her and to come in and see for himself. Well, when he got there, there was a whole passel of police cars and an ambulance. Turns out a drunk had been coming down the road and had swerved into a telephone pole. His body went into the windshield and unfortunately pieces of him came out. His head apparently had sailed over the fence and landed neatly in amongst the tulips.  The old lady was suitably horrified and my da spent the better part of the night trying to convince her to go back to sleep.  All she could really say was “is it out of my yard, is it out of my yard” over and over.  Needless to say this was always my favorite story to tell whenever I had new people over.

Just out of curiosity am I the only lesbian who has family stories like this to tell?  I mean, I know growing up in the backwoods of Montana doesn’t help, but surely there are others out there who can relate.  Granted I know no one is going to be able to top my burying grandma story but there has to be others out there who have done odd things as children?

If not, well, i guess I’ll just have to keep telling my stories and subsuquently continue to give all backwoods lesbians a bad name.  But everyone has to have a hobby eh’?

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