I grew up a suburb girl. I have lived in suburbs all over North America. It started in California. From there I moved to Alberta, Canada followed by British Colombia. Washington and Kansas were next. There were a couple of times we packed up our whole house, put it in storage and moved to Baja California, Mexico for the summer. Texas followed and then Michigan. In each of these places I have found things to love.
They were all suburbs though. Neighbors right next door. Some fantastic neighbors…some not so much.
Until December 2011.
We wanted to get away from the neighbors and live out in the country. We wanted peace and quiet. We didn’t want to see or hear our neighbors. We wanted nature.
We found the house of our dreams (or the house of our dreams in the rough) and moved out to the country. On a dirt road.
Life is different on a dirt road. I never really understood that before. Dirt roads themselves have lives of their own. Each day driving on one is different. Some days the ride is smooth. Freshly graded. Nary a washboard or pothole in site. Over night things change. Washboard roads appear. Potholes big enough to chip the paint off your mom-van. Driving becomes an art in maneuvering around obstacles…potholes…deer…washed out roads…turtles. And the potholes change in size and location. It is hardly ever the same ride twice.
Life is different on a dirt road.
It is our life now.
And I love it.
Potholes and all.