I can’t help it: I still am a city girl. Or at least that’s what my brain tells me.
There are instances where I am caught off guard by something I see or hear when here at the farm and my immediate reaction is to Think a City Thought. It happened again to me early this morning when I blearily stepped outside in my bathrobe (yes, Not a City Habit) to feed the chicks and chickens. It was still somewhat dark outside. A big patch of white caught the corner of my eye and I thought, “Who parked a van in our side yard?”
It was a blooming crabapple tree, not a white van.
I remember walking our dog at night when we first moved here in late November of ’04. (He was a city dog, and therefore expected a walk. Our current country dog assumes no such courtesy.) As I waited for Alex to do his thing, I looked diagonally across the property and I saw a red light, then a green light. “Wow,” I thought. “I don’t remember there being a stop light over in that direction.”
Not a stoplight. A neighbor’s Christmas lights. The nearest stoplight? Five miles away, in town, one of two.
Sometimes I will wake up and hear voices, and I won’t assume it’s the tv downstairs (which it is, as Tom’s a night owl) but I will think “wow, those people are out late walking, aren’t they.”
I wonder if I will ever lose city-centered thoughts. Will I ever wake up in the city and wonder who planted a crabapple tree on the curbline?