I'm a Country Girl!

Howdy folks!

Since living here in Idaho, I am amazed that my loving husband even managed to tolerate life in the big city for the first 6 years of our marriage. After all, he grew up here, camping and fishing and hunting. I don't know how he retained his sanity in a tiny condo for 6 years, sitting in traffic for hours (literally) each day, and listening to police sirens and helicopters ripping through the air on an hourly basis. How did he tolerate living like that, after enjoying the serenity of Idaho?

I mean, seriously, how did I stand it? I used to actually hear the freeway from our front "yard," although it wasn't even really our yard, just a common area shared amongst the other box-dwellers in our $385/month HOA condo complex. The only answer is that I knew nothing different. I had been a city-girl my entire life, more or less. I grew up in the 'burbs.'

Now, each day I'm detoxing the city. I feel like I'm living in my own private spa. I'm experiencing the best therapy every single day! But seriously, I can hear the cows' teeth tearing the grass. It's been my favorite sound ever since we left the city; the sound of grass being ripped up by the mouthfuls. Deliciously relaxing. I can proudly recognize the long call of the meadowlark and the shrill scream of the killdeer. I no longer foolishly confuse the coo of a mourning dove as the call of an owl. At night, I hear the frogs making a racket on the lake, not the roar of the 805-163 merge in San Diego.

Yes, it took me a while, but I am no longer a city-girl. I hereby bestow upon myself the status of "country girl," but I still have so much more to learn. That's the thing! I learn something new every season, something that I feel I should always have known. I learned that the first cutting of hay isn't as good as the second cutting. I learned that some vegetables can be planted in the fall instead of the spring. Sadly, I learned that a weak chicken will be pecked to death by the stronger chickens. Those are just a few of the countless small things I have learned while living in the country.

I was so sheltered from real life in the city. But real life is very hard. I will never forget moving into our house here on a cold, snowy March afternoon. The next morning a baby calf entered the world, steaming wet on the frozen hard ground. I was stunned. I marveled at the hardship of simple survival. But the tiny calf, rocked back and forth by its mother's tongue, was wobbling to its feet. The big city had displaced me from the struggles of real life. The true miracle for me was that the calf stood up and was fine. I realized real life isn't cushy. Real life is a newborn calf on a cold morning.

I love sitting on my front porch, just after sunset, watching the colors fade from the fields. I love the beauty of running deer, floating silently up and down over fences in the vineyard. I love the spooky cackle of coyotes yipping and howling on the hillside. I love sore muscles and my dirty boots and a can of cheap beer. Yep, I think it's official: I'm a country girl.