Country Living

This...looks nothing like my farm.

Ahhh, the peaceful allure of country living.  I am in an edenic haven, nestled in a peaceful sanctuary, surrounded by a whole bunch of nothing.  Just to be clear, I mean…NOTHING.  Well, Mosquitoes.  Occasional alligators, sure.  Um…there’s a Dollar General.  That’s about it.

So, as a born and bred city girl, let me tell you a thing or two about country life:

This is exactly how I feel after about 9 pm,
 and  between 6 am and my second cup of coffee

1. Country people go to sleep at dusk because there is nothing else to do.  Ok, yes, sure, possibly also because they (by which I mean *I*) get up at 6 am to drink a ton of coffee and eat some delicious farm fresh eggs in the attempts to fortify myself for a long hot day of manual labor.  

Don’t get me wrong, it’s wonderful work, but this ain’t no office job and my soft city behind needs all the help I can get.  After a day on the farm it’s not like I’m dying to burn the midnight oil. 

Having said that, there is no midnight oil.  If midnight still exists, I wouldn’t know anything about it.  If there is oil associated with it, well, they’re fresh out at Dollar General.  Reader, don’t make fun of my Dol Gen—we’ll be getting to that in a moment and you’ll see I might take offense.

 To contend with the abundance of nothing, you come up with some pretty impressive hobbies (For additional research, please see the post: Things My Roommates Do).  Now, I always thought, based on a strong personal background in bad movies and city-held stereotypes, that country folk were up on the weekends tipping cows and maybe setting things on fire.  If this is true, I have not yet been introduced to it (more information below).  Given the complete lack of anything to do, here are my impressive new hobbies:

Q: How many sweeps does it take
to constitute a clean swept floor?
A: At least one more.

·         Cleaning:  Anyone reading this who happens to be related to me will not believe this, but it’s true.  It’s obsessive.  Everything is always covered with dirt, and everyone else here has lost heart—but I have found a string mop and a burning passion to clean.

·         Bringing about the end of Mosquitoes:  Ok, I know we’ve talked about this, but you really don’t know how bad it is—no one does, til you’re out in the midst of them and you feel a panic attack coming on and maybe you want to vomit.  It’s that bad.  Anyway, I have spent some time researching this new hobby, with very disappointing results I might add.  (Thanks, internet. Webpage 1:How to kill mosquitoes: Birds! <click on link> Webpage 2: Birds eat insects.  Lots of birds eat insects.  They eat all kinds of insects.  Yep, they sure do!  Just bunches of them.  We love birds!  Birds are great!”  Fat lot of help that does me; I don’t want general insect eaters that go for any poor shmuck with wings (including my precious dragonflies), I want trained kill birds that only thirst for things that thirst for me. None to be found.)

·         Building furniture:  I had some help with this, and it was actually quite fun—and now we have a coffee table.  And given that my thunder thighs have fallen through one porch chair already, this looks like a skill I should hone.

·         Paper Mache:  We made a piñata shaped like an eggplant!

This show is the bomb.

·         Hulu.com:  Of course we don’t have a TV in the house, because the house is filled with the types of people that move to organic farms and make their own bread.  Myself included, as it turns out.  I can confirm: we don’t own televisions.  Ahhh, but we have laptops… I used to read, and now I’m too tired.  At 32 years of age, I have finally discovered the stupid-box.

That’s all I got so far, but I’m looking into a sewing machine.  Reader, send me hobby suggestions.  Really.  Please.  Please…..

Please.

    2. The Dollar General is the best store ever.  All you people who hate on WalMart but shop at Target, or who have your favorite little corner stores in your quaint neighborhood filled with cute, unique shops, or who, I don’t know, build your own brooms or make your own shoes or something: shove off.  Dollar General wins.

First of all, it’s cheap.  You might have already known this; it’s not called Bank Roll General.

Second of all, they carry Windex, Comet, and Pine Sol.  Remember how I said I’m into cleaning?  Well, I’m also a cleaning snob—I have my brands, and nothing else will do.  Please direct any questions about that point to my mother, or, if she’s unavailable, my sister.  

Finally, there is literally nothing else for 20 miles north or 30 miles south, so if I need toilet paper or a Kit Kat or a string mop at 8:30 at night, I can roll into town, and get it done.
       

     3. Country people are different from not-country people.

Those are VHS cassettes.
In the Gas/Hardware store.
For rent.
I could not make this stuff up....

So, across the street from my beloved Dol Gen, there is a gas station.  It’s at the flashing light that represents my entire town, so you can’t miss it.  Now, this is more than just your average gas station: this one comes equipped with an entire hardware store attached, where clearly nothing has been restocked since the McCarthy Era except the Honey Buns.

However, they have a better selection of cheap beer than Dol Gen (WHAT, you say?  Oh yes—cheap beer and about 10 brands of SUPER sweet wine are available for purchase at Dollar General.  This includes Manischewitz, which sort of balances out the fact that they already have Christmas decorations for sale.) and if you are, say, building a coffee table, the hardware-gas station represents a necessary if unfulfilling stop.

I head on in there the other day and discover two things: First of all, a line.  A line? Because so many other people are also building coffee tables and cannot wait to also be disappointed in the array of finishes and sealants available?  Apparently yes.

Second of all, I got the down-up-eye-roll-look-away look from at least three different people when I walked in. Reader, I want you to imagine the look that city girls start taking their earrings out over.  I want you to picture the look that the kids where I used to work would have interpreted instantly as, “Oh, it’s about to get REAL.”  From three separate, diverse people.

This is not what I looked like.

This is also not what I looked like.

I mean, it’s not like I came straight off the farm and was covered in mud and mosquito carcasses, and it’s also not like I was rocking Prada and Red Bottoms or hollering into my phone about my GTL regime.  Just a girl in jeans and a tee shirt trying to buy some basics from one of the only two stores in a 50 mile radius.

Then the guy behind the counter called the guy in front of me by name and asked him what he was up to that night (Answer: Deer hunting) and I thought, “Ok…they are friendly, curious people…maybe they just do things differently.  They just don’t know me.” Reader, I know you love me, but I also know I take some getting used to.  New hobby: figure out how to make friends and get invited to cow tip and light things on fire.  I’ll keep you posted.

He looked like this

Outside of this store there is always an old dude playing guitar (not kidding) so I think next time I’m going to stay a while and listen and see if I can’t find a way to make conversation. One day it’s going to be me that the guy behind the counter is making small talk with, don’t you worry.  Then I’ll get to answer “What are you up to?” with, “Scrubbing the bathtub,” or “Craft Night!” or some other epic fun.  Til then, I’m off to bed: it’s getting dark.

Country Living!!!!