Country Life

I love the country. I may have grown up just north of Chicago in Waukegan, Illinois, but I wouldn’t say we lived in the city. We had open fields where we spent much time playing.

Under the power lines was a makeshift motorcycle track where the guys would ride up and down all summer long. There was a pond we named “David Diggs Pond” because it was near his house. I remember on a bright moonlit night, all of us neighbor kids went ice skating while listening to the Doobie Brothers. Good times.

In my junior year, we moved away to another state. We moved even further out into the country. We had horses and mom had chickens, geese, and a runt pig named Annie. When I got married I didn’t move very far. Just a few miles but it was even closer to Amish Country.

There’s more sky in the country…which you know I love. Well, unless you are in a forest where the trees cover much of the sky. Still country. Bright city lights and tall buildings cover a night sky. My country for most of my adulthood has been surrounded by farmland, fields of corn and bean, wooded areas, beautiful lakes, rivers, and steams.

There are so many things I love about the country. Like barnyard animals. My kids were raised on a mini cattle farm. We raised our own beef. Once my son, Jet, pulled a calf when the momma was in distress. Without reservation, he reached in and turned that baby so he could pull it out while the tired momma pushed. Jet was a mere 12 years old at the time. He had no training, yet he knew what to do. The country is a great place to raise children.

I have the pleasure to be around a sheep, two goats and several geese when I visit the town my family moved to in 1977. This is where I graduated high school, got married, and had two precious little boys. I moved away long ago but visit wonderful friends (and cute animals) there now.

Countrified people are in a class by themselves. They aren’t afraid to be just who they are. What you see is what you get. They aren’t afraid to talk shop or the old days. They will tell you about every fish they caught yesterday. Of course, there might be some colorful exaggeration to make their story just a little more interesting. But it’s all good.

Last night I went to the firehouse to listen to elderly people entertain elderly people. They played old-timey county music and hymns from long ago. The food is provided by the fire department for a free-will donation.

I sat with a couple of the fireman. One was on each side of me but a little back behind me. So when they talked to each other they spoke behind my back but I could hear clearly.

I had to smile when I heard these two firemen talk about persimmons and recipes. They were sharing recipe ingredients and comparing what they make. Dan said he uses cinnamon in his. Todd said his persimmon pudding (which he himself made for this particular night) was what his grandmother made (with cinnamon too). I just had to smile.

I tucked that conversation into my heart. It was clean and pure. It was country.

I’m looking forward to moving. And while I’m staring at a cornfield in my backyard as I write this post, I know that my next home will be in the country as well. Though I’m getting older I do not want to live in the city. Not even with all the conveniences city life has to offer.

You cannot take this girl out of the country or the country out of this girl. ♥️

Andi