Today was a cranky day for me.
I'm bored, that's the simple truth.
When I get bored, I get cranky.
Cowboy gets away from this house every day.
OK, he's working, but he's not at the house, he sees live humans.
On Sunday he goes to morning and evening church services.
Yes, I could go with him, but I've never liked treating church as a social event.
If you go, you go to worship, not as an excuse to get out of the house.
I told him if I lived in Rogersville, Morristown, or Jefferson City, I could walk places.
There isn't anything to walk to down here but a church that happens to allow people access to their playground and picnic area.
We moved to this, and I hate to call it a town, it's not a town.
It's a place with a lot of churches, a library, a post office, a school, a hair salon, and a handful of houses.
But we moved here because this is where Cowboy grew up, and it was the only place close to where he worked that had a K-8 school for our kids.
I didn't realize that with me not being able to drive, living twelve miles from stores, movie theaters, and real parks would get very, very tiresome.
Again, I'm super cranky today.
It was a very long Sunday, spent staring at the same four walls I've been staring at since 1997.
I grew up in a small town.
No matter which direction you walked, there was something to do.
You had a giant park with walking trails, you had stores, you had a huge library.
I hated living there because of the small‑minded people, but with age, comes a longing for a life that was more exciting than counting chickens.
I'm getting off and going back to, well, counting chickens. This is going to be another very long week with nothing to do or look forward to.
And how the living heck is it already almost Easter?!
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