Country Bumpkin

I'm not totally sure when it happened.  Perhaps it was our second summer, when we planted our first real garden.  Or when we proudly scrambled our first egg from our own chicken.  Maybe it was that first mountain winter with all that snow.  What about the birth of an anchor baby, was his birth what defined our status, declaring us true locals of our little country ski town?  One day we were carefully designing and leveling a predictably new concrete walk, and the next we were using found barn wood and rusted corrugated metal to build fences and flower boxes.  I am certain that these things didn't happen overnight, our transformation to country folk was gradual.  It was gradual enough that I didn't even notice when only a diaper (and often even less) became an adequate clothing option for the day.

Hot summers, lazy days for Abe hanging out in the flower garden

Sol might avoid more scrapes if he wears more then just a diaper while skateboarding

I remember the stories my mother would tell me about her parents, the stories of the absurdities of the big city.  They'd leave their small Southern Utah town and make the 130 mile trip to the Salt Lake, and no big deal if you happened to pass your freeway exit, her farmer father would just throw the car in reverse and back up to his missed I-15 turn off point.  The excitement of big department stores, the mystery of parking meters, and the possibility of a delicious treat, like soda, candy, or if your really lucky a can of tuna fish?  And before heading home the opportunity to eat at a restaurant where a waitress asked if you wanted sour cream with your potato.  Sour cream, yuck, that's what happened when a bucket and it's contents was forgotten after a milking.  The city was another world, one while in those younger years she'd only visit.  Times change, and city life soon called, and so there was soda in her fridge, stacked cans of tuna in her cupboard, and candy at her fingertips.  Country ways soon to be lost but not forgotten.  With the passing of several decades history has a way of repeating itself, except now I feel the absurdities of the big city.

It's only a twenty minute drive to Ogden, but I find myself making that trip less and less often.  When I do make the drive down the canyon, it's to the same relaxed stores, or to the comfortable houses and places for our regular visits.  My children make these trips even less often then myself, maybe this can explain their utter amazement at Ogden's own small Newgate mall.  I was puzzled at their reaction, they stood completely dumbfounded,  gawking at the size, sights, and sounds, had they not been to the mall before?  Of course they had.......hadn't they????? 

We all got the chance to expand our horizons this weekend when we made a trip to that 'big city'.  Finding a parking space was only the first of many foreign experiences.  The mere amount of people was dizzying, and even though I know I'm not current with the latest style, I was still a little self conscious seeing that I was definitely out styled and accessorized by most of the male population, what happened to just jeans and a t-shirt?  The upgrades to downtown were pretty impressive, we even made a couple purchases.  I wasn't surprised when the lady behind the counter laughed when I repeatedly tried to swipe my card on some sort of device that she'd waited to informed me was for a phone app..... what..... an app..... at check out..... one more reason I don't think I'll ever own a cell phone.  With shopping done it was time to battle some more traffic to get to our final destination, a place I used to call home.  But as I gape at the rows and rows of newly constructed homes and businesses, one scarcely different from the next, I barely recognize my home town.

Time to head home, it was a good visit, full of the faint yet familiar, it seems my city ways are also lost but not forgotten.  As we made the final turn on some empty roads towards home, I was glad to meet the stare of one giant yak as he lazily chewed his meal in the middle of a neighboring pasture.

Yes, despite my own wants, I believe more trips to the city are in order.  My children may need to travel outside town limits to experience and hopefully gain knowledge of all life has to offer them, even if this means traffic jams, and people in the masses.  But for me, I'm happy to give up shopping spots, for hiking spots, current styles for lake currents,  parking lots for lots of messy fun, and rows of houses for rows in our garden.   

Yes pajamas are totally acceptable working in the garden wear, well only if you have your muck boots on

  

I wore overalls with muck boots last week and it wasn't even Halloween.  I matched my three year old, also in overalls and muck boots.  Together we road my three wheeled bike through town, we were hoping to catch a glimpse of some newly born baby goats.  No babies yet, so instead we just waved to the llamas, clicked at the horses, cautiously maneuvered through a flock of wild turkeys, and reenacted our reaction when we had spotted two gigantic moose walking through town a few days prior.  So yeah.... it's good to be home..... and aint I so lucky..... I've got soda in my fridge, cans of tuna in my pantry, and candy at my fingertips.