Home again, Home again, Jiggety Jig....
The morning greeted me with a five year old demanding porridge. SuperNan and I spent the morning in the pool area, gearing up for summer. I meandered about last year's garden, speaking with the above mentioned five year old about this spring's growing options. He thinks that some Canteloupe and peas would be optimal. I agree.
Later in the morning I perused the old chicken coup, where my best friend and I had our failed chicken operation. I'm thinking that by next spring, I can have it fixed to house about eight to twelve chickens: eight for our tummies, four for eggs. I can make a raised slat-floored pen to house some pigs and sheep. Buy a heat lamp, set up a water system.
I was perusing the property for a good portion of the day. Just meandering. I can't get over how claustrophobic and stuffy the city is. I'm surrounded by people I don't know, who I'll never meet. Alone without my roomie the last few days, I've really been contemplating living there for much longer than the next twelve months.
And I can't do it.
The first thing that struck me when I got home was the amount of green that is here in the sticks. Everything is green. The lawn is luscious, the trees are covered with bright green leaves. SuperNan's garden is coming up in droves, the plants gorgeous and full of life. There are birds and insects everywhere. Singing. The sound of nature. The sounds that I can never hear for the sirens and beer wolves in the city.
Time McGraw has a song called "Where The Green Grass Grows" It, like so many other country songs, speaks so directly to me that it makes me want to lay down and weep.
"Well I'm from a map dot
A stop sign on a black top
I caught the first bus that I could hop from there
But all of this glitter is getting dark
There's concrete growing in the city park
I don't know who my neighbors are
And there's bars on the corner and bars on my heart
I'm gonna live where the green grass grows
Watch my corn pop up in rows
Everynight be tucked in close to you
Raise our kids where the good Lord's blessed
Point our rocking chairs towards the west
And plan our dreams where the peaceful river flows
Where the green grass grows
~~~
I'm coming home.
Twelve months. I'll make it through this. One more measly little year.
Then I can live where the green grass grows.
Toonses
1 Comments:
Yes Amanda you are a true country girl, go with it and get the hell out of the city! I can see that you are truly unhappy there and it is not where your heart is at, but I wish you luck in the next year getting through city life once again. You will manage because think of what you have to look forward to when it is all done with, you will be where you are meant to be and want to be.
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