City Mice


Okay, can I contradict that last post? Yesterday we woke up and got to cruisin’ before the Tennessee heat sat it’s nasty, humid self down on the rim of the bowl where my city is nestled.

With Birdy strapped into her “drive bike” we pedaled to the library to pick up a book A. had requested, to the bike shop to get a new helmet for the now-preschool-sized head, and to the old-timey hardware store with the lazy cats in the window for a big honkin’ bag of clothespins. And that was a pretty good time.

During one of my epic whines to A. about moving to the country, he explained that while he loves the big green leafy peace of the rural midwest/ southeast as much as the next guy, he feels more comfortable as a part of a big living breathing community where the constant motion and contact of the parts keeps the whole thing sputtering along, taking care of itself. And you know, I agree with that just as much as I want to can vegetables and let my dogs and children run their little legs off without a fence or a sidewalk in sight. And yesterday satisfied my need for urban opportunities and small-town insulation, all within 7 blocks.

Welcome to my life: it’s all indecision and restlessness and greener grass just around the corner sometimes. Admittedly, it’s when I’ve got ants in the pants about some other, separate issue.

AND. To the anonymous donor who turned over his/ her bread machine to the Goodwill where it was sold to me for $12 :

Thank you, thank you, thank you for donating the instruction manual as well.

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