Country Girl....I am NOT

I have always thought of myself as a hermit. Someone who could live in the middle of nowhere with minimal or no social interaction and do exceptionally well. While I still think this is the case, I am no where near a country girl. 

I loved growing up and being able to walk the road, attempt to ride a bike (as I didn't learn until I was in middle school and still then it was pretty iffy), etc. and not have to worry about vehicles running you over. 

We knew all of our neighbors. Most either lived there prior to my parents moving here, or they were family.  

Now as I look out my window writing this blog, I see three houses. All of which I cannot even begin to tell you the names of the families that live in them. These houses are within yelling distance and I have no clue who they are. 

Again I am not a very social person, so I don't really care who they are, but still, it's different. 

I would love again for it to be dispersed more so than it is now. 

However, as much as I love solitude, I am in no sense a "country" person. I do not farm, I do not know how to use a tractor, I can't keep a plant alive if my life depended on it. I hate to garden, and farm animals stink...literally. 

I am not sure what happened today, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. 

A couple of weeks ago, I went to a cookout at a friends house and willingly tried fresh farm eggs. I know for most this is commonplace. NOT ME. I go to great lengths to ensure that the eggs that I eat are only EB. Not sure what I did before they existed. 

So I tried them....and I liked them. Craziness. 

This morning, I not only bought, cooked, and ate fresh eggs, but I also ate bacon from my sisters pig that was slaughtered and processed. I have fed, and called this animal by name multiple times in the past year. As I cooked it and put it on my plate I was frozen as I wasn't sure if I could eat this animal that was for all intents and purposes a pet. So I did the only rational thing I knew and I took a breath and closed my eyes and pretended I didn't know what I was eating. 

It was good. Now, I would never raise a pig to slaughter. But I didn't throw up, nor did I throw out the remainder of the bacon. 

After I had a little meltdown about all of these (NOT ME) scenarios. I heard a mouse.....again.

I realized that it was in my trash can. How it got in there I am not sure. But it became this fifteen minute production. Noah didn't make it any easier. I took the trash can outside where he proceeds to tell me that he is going to catch it. I'm glad that no one was videoing the situation because I would deny it to the end. 

He finally did catch it after we chased it all around the porch. His great idea was going to be to sling it off the porch. He did. And it ran back towards the house and up the porch.

Um no. This mouse is not going to go back into the house. I will not sleep for fear that it will be my unwelcomed sleeping guest. 

So I grabbed the first thing that I could see....which was metal rake....and shooed it off the porch again. This became a four time repeated event in which I didn't know what else to do except...stab the stupid thing with the rake.

I know...I know...but it was a rodent and it wouldn't listen and leave. 

So almost twelve hours later and I am still thinking about this morning. What happened? In one day I ate my nieces pet, I ate farm food, and I stabbed a mouse with a rake. Mid life crisis? If so I think I desperately need a new one.