North Dakota was an exceedingly dull place to grow up. Not that there aren't goofy people living there. This story brought to mind a paint job of another sort on the western side of the state. For a little over a year we lived in a pink stucco house on Third Avenue East in Williston, ND. On the corner at the other end of this block was a very lovely Craftsman style home with a deep front porch that was painted with a lovely cream and gold color scheme. In front of this home there was a fire hydrant, located near the street. According to city statute it was normally painted red. But the lady of this house seemed to feel that the red color did not coordinate well with her home. So occasionally, she'd go out to the curb and paint the hydrant gold. It was a constant back and forth battle, and whoever got out there and painted before it froze in the fall won for the duration of the winter. I remember the grown-ups discussing the fire hydrant painting woman. Seems she was assessed a fine by the city every time she painted it, and was sent a bill for the paint and labor to turn it red again. Words like stubborn and crazy were tossed about. At the ripe old age of thirteen, I liked her style and knew this was the sort of crazy and stubborn old lady I wanted to be. I currently don't have a fire hydrant in front of my house. But if I ever do, I think I'll do it up right with a polka dot paint job.