Countrified

"A day in the country is worth a month in town" is painted on a sign hanging in our neighbor's home. She's right, you know. As I drive "in to town" on errands today, I can't help but chuckle at the fact that I now say the words, "in to town." Living in the country for five years is working its subtle magic on our family. Groaning about the distance to the nearest Wally World has faded into appreciation for the beauty of the north woods on a peaceful, no traffic drive. There is awe at needing to brake, not for 9 stop lights on the way to the store around the corner, but just once for a black bear and her three cubs trotting across the road.

I'm almost there now. In a parking lot, some body's grandpa is checking out an RV "for sale by owner" in his overalls and scratching a beard that rivals ZZ Top. We pass a rusty blue truck bed piled high with organic sweet corn, then another truck, then a stand. Mmmm I should pick some up while we're out this way. I think the country version of multi-tasking is getting it all done while you're in town 'cause you won't be headed out again for a while.

On the way home, my mind runs over some little things we've come to love and appreciate over these past few years, like neighbors who invite us over to hold downy, baby chicks... heading out the door in the morning to find a five gallon bucket of garden fresh tomatoes on the porch... discovering a teeny spotted fawn in our bushes. Oh, sure, the Internet is slow, and storms knock out power from time to time, but I can't say us reforming townies have given up much at all, even though I know we have a long way to go.

Now I sit with my just-moved-from-the-city sis and grin as she mutters about the computer connection and bemoans travel distances to the nearest Old Navy. In the short time she's been up here she has already gone 4 wheeling and washed an old dog in a creek. Okay, that last part she only watched, but give 'er time and she'll be wading in with the best of 'em... countrified!