You know you are from the country (#3)

You know you are from the country when this excites you.

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Yes, that’s just a little over a tenth of an inch of rain. It’s not that a tenth of an inch will do any good in this part of the world where we sorely need it, but it does remind me that it CAN rain. Living in the country makes you realize that rain really does matter – even if it only happens once every three weeks or so, and only if you must suffer when it does.

 

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You know you are from the country (#2)

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You know you are from the country when a calf bottle becomes a permanent fixture on your kitchen counter for a few weeks.

(More on this development at the Country Chick’s house later.)

You know you are from the country

if this is the bane of your existence:

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I hate them. And I’m not using the word “hate” lightly.

I understand that I live in an old house with leaky windows and boys that have a hard time closing the back door. But crimeny. They are every where.

I come home from work and spend the next three hours swatting flies. Last night I swatted 10 in a row with out turning. Yes, it is that bad. And yes, I clean my house but you can’t tell by that photo above. These lovely little creatures leave fly specks everywhere.

Now I love living in the country, don’t get me wrong. And I like the cattle out my back door and the barn across the road. But if there’s one thing that stinks, it is flies.

Please tell me I’m not the only one. Anyone? Anyone?