Country Girl

A girl born and raised in the suburbs, I might have been.  But I never felt truly at home amongst the cookie-cutter houses and endless shopping centers.  That's not completely true.  There were two instances during my homeschooled years as I child where my spirit felt peaceful and contented.  Once was when I read a Little House book in our backyard hammock as I listened to the three pullets clucking around that my parents encouraged me to have.  The other time was when we started a garden in the side yard and I'd work in it all alone, absorbing the quiet, sunny, earthy life that surrounded me as my hands dug into the earth, pulling food from it.

Now, my own family lives in Smalltown, Ruralville and I've realized something: I am a country girl.

It just doesn't get old waking up to all the neighborhood cockerels calling out and bragging to each other every morning at 5:15.

Our children's chores include collecting eggs twice a day, feeding and watering the sheep, and calling our dog up the hill, away from the chickens.  I love that they know what it sounds like when a pullet lays an egg and the proud expression on their faces when they give me the daily egg count.

The other day, my children were noticing the differences between "city kids" and "country kids" and they all decided they were glad to be the country kind.

I love spending some time every Sunday afternoon, making the list for our weekly errand-run to town (and the fact that the list always includes picking up real milk from a local dairy farm).

Cruise control only makes sense when driving to town because there's no such thing as rush hour or traffic of any kind, for that matter.

When we're home, we all stop to look down the road when we hear a car because that's a sound not usually heard unless someone has come for a visit.

Together, we dream about next year's garden.  The kids get to choose their favorite variety of a veggie of choice (usually because it sounds the sweetest or because it's purple instead of green).

Everyone's eyes sparkle as we sit around the dinner table, planning which fruit and nut trees to plant this November and deciding where they should set their roots.

Much discussion has been going on as to whether or not we should invest in a couple meat steers or a dairy cow and her half next spring.

I thrill to the sound of a million frogs and crickets in the summertime and scattered owls hooting along with an occasional coyote pack yelping in the winter as I fall asleep each night.

The night sky is noticeably darker on new moon nights and brighter when the moon is full.  This was something I could never enjoy in the city, with it's sky constantly polluted with the purplish glow of all the street lights and buildings.

Our favorite pastime (when the night is dark) is sitting on the porch, watching the magnificent sunset  and staying up to admire the millions of stars, then letting our breaths get taken away by an occasional shooting star.

Not all people enjoy the things I do, nor see life in the same way, and I'm happy about that.  If people love the city, they should live in the city.  But me?  I'm a country girl, thankful to finally call the country my home.

I'm sharing this at Barn Hop.