In my corner of Ontario a lovely fluffy white covering of snow has landed on us, hiding everything that you didn't manage to put away yet. All the nice residents of the hood have cleaned their barbq, their lawnmower and all the leaves have been bagged and picked up. Not me, man. I'm doing my part for the hick cause.
Not all hicks are slobs. In fact, I personally know many who have neat tidy places. They just don't like to leave their places much. but sometimes you get some hillbilly or some redneck creeping in and then your place rocks.
To really get the essence, a few objects have to be poking out of the snow. Not sharp objects, because that is not hick, that is stupid and dangerous. You must have an old tire on a rim lying around. Why wouldn't you? Let that hang around. It looks great when the snow falls through the slots in the rim. An old bucket seat from a car looks pretty good too, especially if it's leaning casually against a tree. Actually a whole car is best but there are rules against that if you happen to live in town like I do.
The best part about the above mentioned items is the fun value if you have kids. YOu wouldn't believe what kids can come up with when supplied with a rim and a bucket seat. Give them a couple of branches and you've got the flintstones or something. And I'm a big believer in recycling so it's a win win.
The tire swing hanging out of a tree is a classic. All year round. I feel so sorry for those who don't have any tree big enough. We had to use our neighbour's tree. Luckily we love our neighbours.
We haven't put away our lawn chairs or anything. Priorities. So many other things to do. Play tug with the dog. do laundry.
If you're a hick, you are not concerned with what the Joneses are doing. You might not even be able to see the Joneses from your front porch so why would you care? I believe in keeping a place decent, for your own peace of mind, but the world stops at your picket fence, or barbed wire fence, or pile of rocks. Let your flowerbeds wither the way the frost intended! Don't be afraid to plant your rubber boots firmly on your snow covered lawn, cross your plaid-clothed arms over your chest and proclaim to the world: "Yep, I am a hick."