I am a country housewife.
By "country" I mean the closest place with a stoplight is 30 minutes away, the closest place with a shopping mall is an hour and a half away, and the closest place with a shopping mall that has a Gap is three hours away. Our tiny community has exactly one very small gas station and one post office roughly the size of a postage stamp. Pun fully intented.
By "housewife" I mean I stay home and keep house. Don't get me wrong, I'm no June Cleaver. I only have imitation pearls. Do you suppose she really wore pearls and heels just to keep house? Wish I could pull that off. I mostly wear stretch pants. Sorry to disappoint you, June.
I like being a country housewife. I specify country because I think it must be different than living in a populated area. As in, I have to carefully plan my bi-monthly trips to town. As in, we just got high speed internet access a few weeks ago. As in, everyone here knows everyone else's business, which I love and find very endearing. And oh my word do I have some stories!Like when I pull out of the driveway and as soon as my cell phone rings I know its my one and only neighbor wanting to know where I'm headed. There's not a lot to do for entertainment around here. We just watch each other come and go! More stories to come.
To be perfectly honest with you, in spite of lovely existense involving all sorts of beautiful things like creeks, barefoot babies, and yellow daffodils blooming like sunshine along my fencerow, I've been a little down in the dumps lately. I used to write a lot and I've let it fall by the wayside the last couple of years. I decided to start a blog. Isn't that what people do nowadays?
