City Mouse ....... Country Mouse.
Remember the story about the two mice that were cousins? One lived in the city and one lived in the country. The city mouse visited the country and found it dull. The country mouse visited the city and found it frightening and treacherous.
I got to thinking about the story the other day.
It was the day after the latest snow storm. With the drifts that you saw in the last post, and the frozen water hydrant, and 115 year old farmhouse ............ life sometimes seems tough. I was having "a day". Everything took longer than it should ........ everything was harder than it should be ....... it was one of those days. And on top of it, every time I started something, the phone rang.
So I was running late for work and when I got there, I was grumbling about my difficult morning.
One of my co-workers made the statement, "Well, you don't have to live there. It is all about choices."
These are not women that own long underwear wardrobes or knit their own socks. They don't use a pantry as they shop for a meal as they prepare it. They don't have flour in their homes as they never need it. (Let alone the 10 different flours in my pantry!!) And they don't realize the fashion statement that Carrharts and Northerners make!!!!
Nice gals ..... but they are city mice.
I was raised as a "city mouse". Even though I was raised in a very small town, my up-bringing was about image and reputation. My purse was to match my shoes. I wore white gloves and hats to church. My hands were soft and my nails sparkling clean. And I could balance stacks of books on top of my head as I walked ........... because that was what a lady did. I never did fit in.
I moved to "the big city" in my 20's and I tried to be happy. I tried to be a woman that "lunched". I shopped and I shopped and I shopped. And all those new shoes and blazers never made me happy. I decorated my home with the latest style and everything was just so. And I was so very sad.
And then I became a "country mouse" and suddenly, the life where I never measured up vanished. Farm and Fleet became my fashion headquarters. I went to tractor shows and fell in love with an Allis-Chalmers G (I'd look good on that!!!!) I wear muck boots and I shovel poop. I can tomatoes, bake bread and make cheese. I mend and darn and buy second-hand and do without.
And I am happy.
Throughout my gardens, there are signs that say Bloom where you are Planted. And that is true, we can bloom where we are planted. But to truly flourish and thrive, we have to be planted where our souls are.
And I am a country mouse.
I got to thinking about the story the other day.
It was the day after the latest snow storm. With the drifts that you saw in the last post, and the frozen water hydrant, and 115 year old farmhouse ............ life sometimes seems tough. I was having "a day". Everything took longer than it should ........ everything was harder than it should be ....... it was one of those days. And on top of it, every time I started something, the phone rang.
So I was running late for work and when I got there, I was grumbling about my difficult morning.
One of my co-workers made the statement, "Well, you don't have to live there. It is all about choices."
These are not women that own long underwear wardrobes or knit their own socks. They don't use a pantry as they shop for a meal as they prepare it. They don't have flour in their homes as they never need it. (Let alone the 10 different flours in my pantry!!) And they don't realize the fashion statement that Carrharts and Northerners make!!!!
Nice gals ..... but they are city mice.
I was raised as a "city mouse". Even though I was raised in a very small town, my up-bringing was about image and reputation. My purse was to match my shoes. I wore white gloves and hats to church. My hands were soft and my nails sparkling clean. And I could balance stacks of books on top of my head as I walked ........... because that was what a lady did. I never did fit in.
I moved to "the big city" in my 20's and I tried to be happy. I tried to be a woman that "lunched". I shopped and I shopped and I shopped. And all those new shoes and blazers never made me happy. I decorated my home with the latest style and everything was just so. And I was so very sad.
And then I became a "country mouse" and suddenly, the life where I never measured up vanished. Farm and Fleet became my fashion headquarters. I went to tractor shows and fell in love with an Allis-Chalmers G (I'd look good on that!!!!) I wear muck boots and I shovel poop. I can tomatoes, bake bread and make cheese. I mend and darn and buy second-hand and do without.
And I am happy.
Throughout my gardens, there are signs that say Bloom where you are Planted. And that is true, we can bloom where we are planted. But to truly flourish and thrive, we have to be planted where our souls are.
And I am a country mouse.
Comments
I have sheep, llamas and chickens. I too bake and can and garden and spin and weave and knit and can't find enough time in the day to get it all done. But isn't it a good feeling knowing that you are closer to our Mother Earth doing these things?
Nice socks, by the way. I usually have a good visit with the Argyle ladies at the Wisconsin Sheep and Wool Festival in Jefferson, WI each September.
Grace and Peace!
Last year, my hubby got me a pressure canner for Christmas- several people were worried that I'd be upset- until I informed them that it was what I had asked for. This year- I got him a chainsaw. Yeah, we're romantic like that....
Judy
Barb, I also got a new pitchfork for Christmas a couple of years ago, and I was equally excited.
Country mice Unite!
My favorite Valentines Day present .... muck boots and a rusty tote that Honey pulled out of the garbage. I use it to store CDs -- its perfect.
Seriously, why would you spend the equivalent of a utility bill on 2-week old roses shipped from South America? And they may last 3 days???
I like practical!
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