Moving to the country as in "30 minutes by car separate me from my favorite stores downtown the 265,000 inhabitants emperor's town" as opposed to a "Lonesome ranger – wilderness - homeschooling" kind of moving to the country. Although I wouldn't mind that farmhouse in maybe the wine country of California or somewhere in Maine or Colorado for the weekends or summer vacations.
I was born and raised in the sloping hills south of the emperor’s town and I can totally see myself living there again. I know what living there entails: no more quick runs to my favorite restaurant, but that will only mean more recipes for you, right? No more mid-week movie nights at the cinema that is only a 5 minute walk from my bed. Bus connections suck and parents are enslaved by their kids as taxi drivers, which means that a second car is always a must. No Starbucks in the near and maybe not even a substitute that lives up to my coffee place standards.
But I want to stand with naked feet on my own patch of grass and sip a glass of wine next to my barbecue grill only minutes after I have returned from work. I want to be able to hop into my running shoes and escape to the woods without exhaust gases between me and my personal 10 mile record. I want to stand on that patch of grass without having to listen to city traffic or worry about my kids' hopscotch in the middle of a four-lane highway. Whom by the way I want to grow up in the country, too, as I don't think it did me any wrong. I want to watch them build dams in the nearby creek and drown waterstriders with drops of liquid soap.
Enough about my sentimental living in the country dreams which are as far from reality as my upcoming wedding to Prince William. Back to the fun fact that life in the country is not at all that friend's idea. After all, I have the feeling that she is on a secret mission to save me from my awful dream.
So she always asks me whether I won't miss living in walking distance from this
Her newest approach now is talking leisurely about others who have moved to the country and now deeply regret it. I am actually looking forward to every new day as every new day sheds a new light on her idea of how my life should be and brings to light new ways of keeping mr from rushing open-eyed towards my personal day of doom. [imagine me with a coffee cup, smiling]
Too bad though that she refuses to understand my argument of having to move to the country in order to have a yard that authorizes me to own a LAWN MOWER TRACTOR. Hooray for tractors! This she comments with the question whether I am a flower person, growing my own herbs and spending my evenings plucking about. No, I am not. I am just a nature person. With high heels and the occasional shopping spree.
How about you? Are you a country person?