Friday, February 17, 2012

Out in the country

This is a picture of my road...on a good day, so it's safe to say I live in the boonies. You get use to the isolation, the lack of neighbors, the inability to order pizza. You don't necessarily worry about locking your doors but are well armed in case someone decides to test your resolve to put a bullet between someones eyes.

Living in the country also is a cultural adjustment. You don't worry about dressing up for anything unless its deer hunting season or garage sale time. You wash your car only to remove the salt and don't even bother with curtains.

The local restaurants are decorated with a combination of NASCAR and roosters, all the gas stations not only carry milk and bread, but the kind of diapers you request and hard liquor.

People out here still wave at each other no matter if we know them or not. We notice when something 'dosen't look right' and will hold pancake breakfasts for you when you are sick. Your neighbor may not speak to you for years, but will be the first one there to help you cut down that tree. (or at the very least, stand back and watch you work and offer unneeded advise).

I've lived here 12 years now, and have finally burnished off those 'newcomer' edges. I can walk into the local greasy spoon, who's name isn't even on the door, and order the special with a side of cracklin's with out shame or remorse, and they never ask what I'm drinkin' cuz they know.

The paper comes once a week, and its free.

You can come home to a pile of zucchini or a dozen eggs with no note and no need for thanks, out here you share your wealth in whatever form it takes.

Its a slow paced life out here in the sticks and all I can say is...


No comments:

Post a Comment