Okay, so Geo and I went to a family graduation party up North at his cousin's farm. It's a gorgeous, wide open expanse perched on the crest of a hill under a big sky overlooking a neighboring farm. Ken was an organic farmer long before it became all the rage. He took a leap of faith almost 20 years ago, quit his day job and devoted his life to agriculture. He and Kathy grow gobs of produce and harvest eggs from their gazillion chickens... who really funked up the atmosphere around our Corn Hole challenge.
|chicks taking in the Corn Hole contest|
while simultaneously "fowling" up
the ozone (I know. groan)
Here's the thing, as much as I appreciate the simplistic beauty of bucolic life and am grateful to those who dedicate their lives to feeding others through their perpetual daily labor, I am and always shall be an urban suburbanite. I like the fact our neighbors are within reach. I like being able to walk to restaurants and shops. I like being ten minutes away from the city and all it's wonderful cultural amenities.
Visiting the family's pastoral homestead or Beets north 40 spread is like taking a welcomed mini respite to commune with nature, but after an afternoon I itch for my urban dwelling. Literally. My head itches from all the bugs and shit.
My name is Murray and I am a city girl through and through.