Green Acres, We Are There...

We pass no less than three horse farms between our new house and the grocery store. It's basically a straight shot from our house down the road for about 15 minutes. This doesn't count the single homes with horses grazing their properties.

Today Livvie and I drove out to get a couple of things at the store and pick out a Christmas tree. She's been begging for a tree for months now, and the Friday after Thanksgiving is THE earliest I will allow a tree into my life. Needles on the floor. Watering the thing. Extra power expense from the lights. I'm always happiest in the house with a tree up though. It breaks my heart to take it down. The house looks totally barren and lonely when the tree comes down.

While we were driving to the store we passed one of the horse farms, and at least a third of the horses in the pasture were conked out on their sides (like <-- that one). The others were sort of slowly moseying around. I said, "Good God, what the hell did you all get into last night?"

I could seriously live out here forever. Maybe not in this house, but somewhere, out here, away.

The older I get the less city I am. It's almost like my cells themselves are calling a retreat. I had moved into a very country area with my ex in my late 20s, and when we divorced I was forced by finances to move back into town. I hated every second of it. I was in a unit of three apartments on the corner, and the bus stop was right on that corner. Even though I wasn't in the end unit, every single morning I heard the loud release of air as the bus pulled to a stop, and it drove me right up a wall.

I hate traffic. I hate being on top of other people. I hate being forced by geography into knowing everyone's business.

We are currently about 20 minutes or more away from the nearest Target. This bothers me not one bit. We no longer have our choice of convenience stores to dash to if we run out of smokes. We have to plan ahead or go without. Even the grocery store, at 15 minutes away or so, is far enough that I won't be running there more than once a week.

There is no "culture" out here. There are no museums. There is no hipster district.

There is air. There are trees. Huge, green pasturelands. Cows a brief walk away, if so bold as to walk it.

The people. The people are nice. When we went to the store the other day I was treated fabulously. Everyone went out of their way to be friendly. Today when Livvie and I chose our tree I told her to come on back to the car so I could get her buckled in, and I'd drive the car over to the tree to load it. When I finished fastening her seat I looked up, and an employee was crossing the parking lot to our car carrying our tree. I said, "Dude. You're on your smoke break. It's ok," and he said, "I'm still smoking it. Not a problem. Want this in the back?"

If I stay out here long enough I might have to turn in my Misanthrope Card.

That might not be a bad thing.