23 April 2010

this country life.

or so we call it.

i guess it's not really as 'country' as it could be. we have our own coffee shop and i can be at the nearest Target in less than twenty minutes. but this time of year, with winter now melted away, i start to remember exactly why it is that we chose to exchange our former city dwelling for this, a slightly slower pace of life.

it's mid-day on a friday and we're out on the porch. Eli, with a ketchup-smudged face and fingernails gritty from digging, is imagining his dump truck and fire engine are en route to Dickson (the next town over) to pick up some supplies. he personifies the word 'boy' and mimics jeremy whenever possible. Millie and I just sit on the swing where it's shady and observe.

i'd like to say we moved out here solely for our children so that they could grow up close to nature--playing in creeks, running barefoot through the grass, listening to the whistle of the train that rattles the plates on our dining room wall. all of those things are true; we do love the idea of being close to fishing ponds and a river to canoe. we like that there are more trees than buildings and very few police sirens. but in all honesty, we did this for ourselves as much as our kids.

i don't really bake, but the idea of making lots and lots of pies in summertime appeals to me. maybe this will be the summer, i've been thinking lately. as i've mentioned before, jeremy has always considered himself an old soul. he likes wandering around dusty bookstores, planting things, working with his hands. so this home, tattered and torn up as it may be in places, really suits us both.

also, now we have chickens. this Easter, we adopted six little peeps from a nearby farm and are building them a mansion in the corner of the yard. their names are Freida (aka Fred), Agnes, Penny, Lolly, Daisy, and Mr. Belvedere. yes, they are all hens.

so sure, there are still days when we itch for a little more noise and better restaurants. we miss our friends being down the street. sometimes we think back to our old house and our old garden and frown at the numerous (though dwindling) projects still before us. but then one of us will stop and remind the other of all the progress we've made. i'll point out some bit of trim that jeremy installed, and he'll remind me of our beautiful, cozy master bathroom that we worked on together.

here in our little patch of country, and not just in a literal sense, the grass is slowly but surely becoming greener all the time.