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Glorious Gal
Sharing my sanity savers: love, laughter, and inspiration.
| "The Heart of the Wood" | 11:31 PM |
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Filed under:
country living,
country music,
family trees,
forest,
inspiration,
joey and rory,
music,
trees,
wood
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| Country Music, My Liver, and a Rocking Chair | 12:54 PM |
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Filed under:
bike trail,
city,
country,
country music,
geese,
goose,
moving,
piano,
river,
rocking chair
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I'm beginning to believe that I left my music in the country... literally. My piano still hasn't made it's way to my new city home. And to be honest, I'm feeling like I gave a child up for adoption. My heart has a big hole in it without my music!
I've had a few chuckles since moving to town. It's amazing how helpful male relatives are when it comes to moving. But as soon as I mention that my piano needs moved, their helpful smile slithers south and it's, "Uh.... groan.... yeah, let me know when you need me. How many guys do you think it'll take?"
OKAY guys.... it DOES have wheels, and I move it periodically around the livingroom to vacuum and dust behind it. And guess what? I haven't been admitted to the hospital for a hernia yet! lol
But my biggest laugh occurred in the middle of the night when I nearly had liver failure!
I was sound asleep and suddenly heard a loud truck go past my bedroom window. I immediately awoke thinking I was at my country home and for a loud truck to be going by my window there.... well, there's definitely something wrong with that picture. Some moron must've plowed through trees, grown wings or had a huge chain saw mounted to the front of the truck (sounded loud enough to! lol) So I laid there with my liver quivering like a bowl of jello in an earthquake for several minutes until I could put two and two together and realize where I really was.
Overall I do believe I'm adjusting quite nicely to city life though.
- I've found a wonderful bike trail down along the river to walk on.
- I've been keeping an eye on a goose family nesting along the shore.
- I moved the rocking chair that left a bruise the size of a small plum on my left foot in the middle of the night to the OTHER side of the living room.
- I started locking my doors - both house AND car.
- I've figured out that when I open my door at night and hear feet shuffling down the sidewalk I don't have to run back inside. There really are harmless people in the city too!
- I absolutely adore the lack of mud :)
To put it simply... I'm quite happy, content and at home here in the city!
| A Sad Goodbye to my Country Music | 4:13 PM |
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I went for a walk today - a four-mile country walk - and heard the most heart rending country tune I've ever heard. The crows on the telephone lines sang a raspy lyrics, the peepers fiddled in the background, a woodpecker banged a rythm accented by the staccatto of a horses hooves on the dirt road as an amish family came home from church. Finches, whipporwills and robins piped in their harmony. By the end of the last refrain my heart was full of a song of sadness and betrayal. It was a sadder song than Hank Williams, Kelly Pickler, or any other country artist -old or new - could ever write.
But the saddest part is that I am the betrayer! You see, I'm about to pack up my bags and leave my beloved country life for the city.
Luckily it's not all bad news. There are things about the country I will miss every day, but some things I'll enjoy leaving behind.
I'll be happy to say goodbye to...
The skunk who woke me up at three a.m., gasping and gagging last week. It cost me an arm and a leg for deodorizers to make the house liveable and possibly permanently damaged my olfactory apparatus.
I won't miss perils of August in the country... barn flies big enough to carry away a balogna sandwich and the stench downwind of the huge fans of the veal barns. (Did you know that veal never see the light of day? They live their entire lives in a barn stall. In fact, they are even loaded to go to the butcher in the dark of the night. And honey, in mid August a barn full of the critters doesn't smell pretty!)
I'll be happy when I don't have to keep my windows closed tight and stay indoors because the neighbors are haying. I am extremely allergic to hay...hayfever in it's truest form.
Wasting $7 every time I go to the car wash. One trip down a dirt road, and you'd never know I washed it.
But there are some things I'm going to miss!
Coming home at night and seeing deer in the apple trees behind the house.
Playing hostess to my city friends. City kids who have never squeezed a snapdragon are a wonder to watch. I'm not sure, but I might get just as much pleasure out of watching my city friends turn blue as they attempt to walk a quarter of a mile past a field freshly sprayed with manure without breathing. I know, I know. I'm a little sadistic at times.
I'll definitely miss seeing my daughter take her brother and his friends to woods to show them the teepees she built when she was their age, hearing their excited chatter when they return, and breathing in the scent of the woods still in their hair and clothes.
I'll miss those quiet moments that are so still you can hear the far-off hum of an aircraft much to far away to be seen in the sky.
I'll miss the warmth of the sun on my back for two hours as I watch row after row of grass buzz beneath a riding mower.
I'll miss the friendly waves of everyone who passes by.
I'll miss watching the corn grow in the fields, and the vegetable gardens ready to be harvested.
I'll miss the drives home on cool, crisp fall days when the countryside is pulsing with vibrant colors.

Some of my Fondest Memories are Here in the Country...
I remember the night I heard a strange noise through my open bedroom window. I quietly peered out to see a deer lapping water from the kiddy pool full of water.
I remember the night I walked the quarter of a mile to Grandma's house with just the moonlight to guide me and crossed paths with a coyote.
I'll always remember the Amish buggies every Sunday morning... and the bets to see whether it was Mom or Dad making the buggy tilt to one side ; ) lol
I'll never forget the rabid raccoon episode. At noon he was perched on top of the electric pole near my roof and acting strangely. I finally found a cousin who decided to help me get rid of him so that he didn't bite a kid or animal. The plan was for me to climb on the roof with a broom, and give him a shove off the pole. When he climbed down, my cousin would shoot him. But when the fiesty fellow responded to my jab with a violent and hissing snarl, it was I who vaulted from great heights in a hurry! Thankfully, my cousin didn't shoot me.
Every spring I revel in the sound of the thawing ground drinking in the water, I listen for the chorus of peepers waking out of sleep, watch for baby animals darting across the road and pull over to enjoy the sight of a new baby cow or foal in a nearby pasture.
And I wonder...
When I move to town, will my neighbors think I'm strange when I turn my back, cover my face and wave every time a car passes at more than 10 mph? Two decades of coming home from a walk with gritty teeth from the dust of speeding strangers has taught me to do that.
I wonder if I'll be happy in the city. Will my neighbors will be nice? Will my son will forget about nature? But the biggest question of all is, will I be back? Is this good-bye for a while, or good-bye for good?
It's going to be hard to say goodbye to my country life...