Sunday, August 23, 2009


Growing up I didn't like anything about the country. I hated dirt, I didn't like horses, and I liked being in a neighborhood. When my mom married my stepdad we moved from the middle of the city to a subdivision outside of the city. It might as well have been 500 miles away. I didn't like being away from my friends. I missed sidewalks.

When I met my future husand I was 18, living on my own. In the city. I liked it.

He told me he grew up in the country. It was a place I had never even heard of. I had no idea what or where he was talking about. Even when he took me to visit I still didn't know where it was. All I knew is that there wasn't even a stop light in his home town, and what they called The Grocery Store had the same things in stock as 7-11 (By the way- there wasn't a 7-11 for miles!). To say I wasn't impressed would be an understatment.

Then my (future) father in law had a stroke. And he died. My mother in law was left on the farm, and she needed help. My husband had a home next door to her's that he usually rented out. But, as luck would have it, the tenants had just moved out and it was empty. So we moved in "for six months" to help her with the "animals" (read: sheep. Yes, sheep.)

Thirteen years later we are still here, and the sheep have been eaten.

My first few months years here were not easy. I longed for my old life. Especially when I was pregnant. I missed my family. I didn't really know anyone, and the people I did know I didn't click with. We had zero in common. My high school had four times as many people as the entire population of the town we live in. It was a major adjustment.

Then my son started school, and I met people I had things in common with. I got involved in several committees. I started to embrace the country for it's positives. I loved the fact that my son could play outside all day and I didn't have to worry about him. My stepdaughter couldn't fart without it getting back to me before she got home. (Everyone knew everyone, and everything about everyone.) I actually started to like it.

Today, my friends, I am here to tell you that while I miss the city (and I suspect I always will) I like my life here in the country.
We have chickens. Fresh eggs everyday.

I have a pet pot belly pig.
We have a fantastic garden.

We have a great views. In the winter and summer.

Never in a million years would I have pictured myself living in the country. But, I have to say that this is where I really think I am meant to be.


Lindsay said...

I love them both. I used to live in the city as well. My city got full of gangs and drugs and all kinds of un-managed mischief. I took it for what it was worth until I was going to have another child. I packed up my home and moved to the suburbs and I (who hated it at first as well) love it here two years later. It's sad, because I left my apartment when I was pregnant with Zoe, because naturally she would need us to have a bigger place and her own room. Sometimes when I look towards her always closed nursery door, I wonder why I'm here at all.
I love this post though, your pig is so CUTE and I don't even like the normal pink and fat pigs...uugh.
Anyway, rambling, love you, gotta go..

JenJen said...

I love your evolution from city girl to country girl. I think there's something to be said about living a quiet life away from the noise and lights.

I did the to city...but to each their own, eh?

Inanna said...

I know, I NEVER would have thought I'd love it in the "country" but I do!