Another do-nothing day.
Truth is, unless we head to town on Thursday, most of them are.
We’re rural, though not deep country, but it’s still twelve miles to get to a store, a doctor, a park, or a movie.
This town died back in the ’60s.
It had stores, a movie theater, a doctor, but it couldn’t survive after they put in the highway.
Now all that’s left are three churches, one beauty shop, a library, and a school.
No stores.
No doctor.
No movie theater.
Just the bones of what used to be.
And even the school isn’t safe.
Every other year or so, we have to fight to keep it in the community.
The school board threatens to shut it down and bus our kids to the bigger town.
My hometown managed to live on after the bypass was built and even thrive, but I don’t know what happened here.
Here’s the thing: Cowboy’s the only one who drives.
Once he heads off to work, Badger and I are stuck at home.
There’s nothing fun close enough to walk to.Badger was feeling better tonight, so after Cowboy headed to work we walked down to the yapping dachshund house and back.
The meteorologist says it’s false fall, and the weather really is amazing.
Cool enough for a jacket.
Or at least I need one.
It must have worn her out; she came home and went straight to bed.
I try to be sympathetic, even though I’ve never gone through this myself.
Well, we found out why Van Gogh next door (Badger told me to quit calling him Prince Harry) put up a fence.
He’s got a new dog.
The dang thing seems more aggressive than the first one, and it barks and barks and barks.
I think I’m chattered out.
Oh, I found out my freaky body can’t handle espresso from a K‑Cup.
Who knew?
But I found the secret to tolerating it: skip the strong setting and six ounces, and go with regular at eight ounces.
It doesn’t quite have that zing, though.
Now I think I’m done.
There’s a meme going around on Facebook about a Southern goodbye.
.png)
I live in a rural community but neighbors are spread out, which is what I was looking for 31 years ago. I was born and raised in St. Paul and hadn't a clue what this life is like, But you can't keep horses in the city. There are three towns within six miles and the city is reached in about 20 minutes. Something else we looked for. It would be tough to be stuck at home without any way of leaving. I was 20 the first time I married but I've never been a housewife. I do take care of the house and yard, by choice. I'm picky! I lived in Atlanta in the mid 80s. I learned about a lot of southern things.
ReplyDeleteSandra, what a full life you’ve had! I can only imagine the shift from St. Paul to rural living, but it sounds like you found just what you were looking for—with room for horses and still close enough to town. I grew up in a small town, and while my area now is more rural, the neighbors are closer together, though they mostly keep to themselves. It is tough not being able to drive, but we do our best to manage.
ReplyDeleteI liked what you said about never being a housewife, but still keeping things just the way you want them. That kind of “picky” seems like a strength to me. My mom was never a housewife, either. And Atlanta in the ’80s—what an experience that must have been! Southern culture has so many layers. I imagine living there gave you a whole new perspective.