In the Country

Living in the country has been a fantasy of mine. Ever since I read Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, I wanted to live in a farmhouse on a country road with a coop of chickens and an extensive vegetable garden. I also like the idea of solitude and the romanticism of living off the land. When Adam and I have talked about buying a house, we have often talked about a house in the country.

Then we moved back to New York and have lived in the (semi) country, and I have quickly realized that I'm more of a city girl than I thought. Of course, here there are no chickens or livestock to tend to, no gardening to do, no tractors to ride, no good country things to keep us busy. Instead we have a thirty minute ride to get just about anywhere, which makes simple tasks like running to the grocery store a huge annoyance. I miss being able to walk everywhere or to run down the street for a bottle of wine in less than ten minutes. At least the scenery on these long rides is pretty.

So it seems fitting that we'll be urban-dwellers once again, though I can't totally rule out the possibility of a farmhouse in the future. Maybe in a few years. I do want my own chickens, after all.