Livin' in the Country

I grew up in what I thought was the country. We had 107 acres and big old barn, chickens, goats, sheep, and horses. However, I’m learning that the town we lived in really wasn’t “country”.

I’m pretty sure I live in the REAL country now. How do I know? Well, let me give you some of the evidence. Goats roam free on peoples land. The local taxidermist (also a dear friend of ours) lives just down the road and you can often see dead animal skins laying out to dry. At night packs of whooping, howling coyotes drown out the sound of the peaceful crickets. The other day I followed a young, flannel-clad man for a few miles as he rode his 4-wheeler down the middle of the road. Also, interestingly enough he had a rifle strapped to the front of it and the only thing in season at the time was bear and crows. There is no great bear hunting in these parts that I’m aware of and I’m pretty sure you don’t shoot crows with rifles. And last but not least, after one trip to the nearest supermarket you will realize there is absolutely no need whatsoever to shower, change out of your PJ’s or throw on a bra when you go to do your shopping! (Calm down people, I didn't say I DON'T shower, change or wear a bra when I go to the store, I just feel no pressure to do so whatsoever!)