The Post About The City Versus The Country

My parents still live in the house where I arrived when I was 3 weeks old.

No pictures since my parents apparently didn't have any film left after the first-born.

When people ask where I grew up, I sometimes answer "in the country." But is that a fair description? Let's recap this Mother's Day and you make the call.

First, I took a turn off the main road to the road that leads home. My friend Caryann says if you refer to any road in your neighborhood as the "main road," then you probably live in the country.

But please don't let her sway your assessment.

On the road, I encountered this:
Not unusual. This 2 mile stretch has more than a few pastures.

Nothing unique at lunch other than consuming an enormous amount of meat and cupcakes:

After we all took a nap, I left. When I was 1/2 mile away, a turkey came out of nowhere.

And not a baby turkey or a skinny turkey. But a fat motherturkey moving at the speed of sound.

I tried to swerve. I tried to stop. But neither attempt was successful. I hit that bird dead on.

Sidebar: Whenever I'm driving and I'm going to pass over roadkill, I close my eyes. I can't seem to stomach the reality of animal death.

So if I'm driving the weapon that's going to silence the gobble, gobble; then you can guarantee I'm eyes wide shut. By the time I looked in the rearview, it was just feathers falling lightly in the breeze. And no sign of a turkey.

Where was it? In my brain, the only logical explanation was it was trapped in the grill of my Nissan. And any moment, it would pull itself up above the hood, look me in the eye and with its dying breath say "What the heck?"

So I called Dad and he offered to check the car, so I headed back. However, I took a 3 mile detour since I was sure the other livestock were aware of my hit and run and were waiting for revenge.

My Dad found nothing. Not one trace of turkey face. I asked "Shouldn't we call someone?" He rolled his eyes and went inside for his 2nd nap.

So did I grow up "in the country?"

P.S. On the way back to my house, on yet another detour; I passed not one, but two homes with in-ground pools in the front yard.

{images: Jamie}


  1. The pools were in-ground? That is definitely city-fied. Now, above-ground pools in the front yard is another story. Especially ones with pink flamingos sunning themselves next to the pool. :)

  2. We talk about "The Farm" and I'm pretty sure I grew up less than five miles from you. Now that I live in rural East Texas, The Farm feels like The Suburbs.

  3. I would have to agree with the assessment that you grew up in the country. But maybe it's the outskirts. You live on the line where the 'country' begins.

    . . . and in-ground pools are meant for the backyard. That's all I'm going to say about that.

  4. I think they call your neck of the woods York Mountain. And Youk Mountain is where "Susie in the Backyard" is from. So country it is.

  5. Having been raised a city girl and then moving to the country, the main distinction I have found is that the pavement you drive on is referred to as "streets" in the city and "roads" in the country. Civilization is creeping up on us, but as far as I know, we still live in the country - 20 miles from almost everything!

  6. A: There were flamingos. Don't doubt it.

    KO: It's all relative, no?

    S: I grew up at the fence of nowhere.

    J: Ahh...Susie. A post for another day.

    Mom: I like that you're a city girl :-)

  7. Literally LOL! People looked at me funny but oh well!

  8. M: That's always the biggest compliment {blushing}

  9. This part: "Where was it? In my brain, the only logical explanation was it was trapped in the grill of my Nissan."

    HOWLING. That is hysterical and so something I would think lol

  10. Not one person made a big deal over your adorable cupcakes. But I will, Jamie. I think they are adorable!

  11. T: See, it's not completely illogical!

    kk: Ahhh...thank you friend! They were fun to make with the 6-year-old niecely.


Don't be afraid if I chase your rabbit comment...

Blogger Template By Designer Blogs