Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Take Me Home Country Road

I grew up in the country. A small house on top of a hill, nestled between two lakes. You had to drive up a pothole-ridden dirt driveway to get to our house, or one of the other six that housed our neighbors. I lived in that house my entire life, until I left for college, and now it is my brother's home. I am a country girl, living in the city, starting to miss that country life.

In addition to typical indoor chores that many children have, I also had to help carry wood down for our wood-burning stove in the fall/winter seasons, rake leaves off the lawn, sweep the many stairs leading down to our back door (the door we used as if it were our front door), pick weeds, etc. We were told to "go play outside" all the time, which meant going to Big Rock or Pine Tree Fort. I guess we could have been more creative in our naming process, but what you see is what you get... Big Rock was indeed just that (imagine a mountain made out of a rock... it was a BIG rock!) and Pine Tree Fort was a clearing in the middle of a perfectly formed circle of pine trees. We treated that fort and that rock as our second homes... we loved those places.

We also would have great family parties down on the lake in the winter. Sleigh-riding, ice skating, igloo-building, bon fires, hot cocoa, roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. In the summer, we would go fishing with our dad at that same lake, either right off the shore or on my dad's canoe or aluminum row boat, catching sunnys with freshly dug up worms. Sometimes we would hike in the back woods and see the little bungalows that people still lived in, or search for arrowheads and pieces of clay pottery.

Some long weekends were spent at an even more desolate one-room cabin further upstate, up an even rockier road in the middle of trees so big, the forest was our cabin's backyard. There, we would hike or go and catch minnows down by the creek. We would color our skin with the rocks found in the river or go for a trip to see the waterfalls or the fish hatchery. There was a tire swing and always a fire at night. The guys would take turns practicing shooting their guns at cans (my family is one full of hunters, so guns were always around) and once in a while they would let the kids have a shot.

Though this blog entry is kind of disconnected and rambling and maybe boring to those of you who do read it, my point is, now I do consider myself a city girl. I've been living here for 10+ years and do love Manhattan very much. But I feel most at peace, most like myself when I get back to nature. I need that in my life. I was on the back of the hubby's motorcycle this beautiful weekend, out on country roads, surrounded by farmland, and felt so calm and happy. I just want to get back to my roots, to feel the ease of life, get out of the hustle and bustle, breathe in fresh air. And I got a piece of it this weekend, which was the best. Except for the poison ivy I got whilst helping my mother do yard work. If I'm going back to the country, I have to start remembering how to be the girl I once was (and listen to my mom when she tells me to put on some gloves before touching the weeds!)

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