In the neighborhood

I spent nearly 35 years of my life in the country. By that I mean, on the farm. I grew up with the smell of farm animals a constant. Walking beans, haying, helping with harvest, milking goats, harvesting honey, butchering chickens. When we finally moved, my one request was that we live in town. In a house that didn't need to be fixed up. Well, I got most of my request. The living in town thing was easy to accomplish. The fixer up thing...well, my hubby is a born fixer upper, even when I think things are just fine the way they are. Thus I've suffered through 36 years of new sheet rock, insulation, wiring projects, redone rooms, additions and all. I suppose, though, that the towns I live in could really still be called country living. The town I'm in right now is the biggest one we ever been in...6000 people. And everyone of them feeling free to call my dog by his name! Don't dare drive down the road in a rage because the person I might be angry at really IS my neighbor.

The other day my husband felt free to yell at the kid on the moped who was digging a hole in the alley with his revving tire and racing up and down. "We have lots of kids who play back here!" he yelled at him. "And fill in that hole while you're at it!" It must be hard on a kid to have so many 'parents' hanging around. But isn't it wonderful to know your neighbors, to have some accountability to them and even to be able to let their kids walk into your house unannounced!