An Ode to Country Roads

My city slicker friends won’t get this, especially not the ones who are born-and-bred suburbanites or urbanites. And that’s okay; different strokes for different folks. As I prepare to embark on the next chapter of my life, a chapter wrapped in urban life, a one-bedroom apartment downtown, I’m more sentimental than ever about rural life. I’m thrilled for the next step, but I also know that the fond memories I have now of these wide open spaces and familiar places will have to last me a little longer.

The road my mom and stepdad live on.

I’ve been listening to one song on repeat a lot lately. Usually, I’m in the car with the windows down, the wind whipping my hair, sunglasses on and my left arm (which is now a darker shade of “pale” than my right arm) resting on the edge of the driver side window. And, I’m usually on a wide open road, tar-and-chip or gravel or dirt.

Continue reading

Advertisements

Tribute to a Rural Dog

I’ve only ever owned one dog…unless you count that pointer puppy that showed up at our house and hung out for a few hours, until my mom realized that he belonged to some folks down the road. So, excluding that, I’ve only ever owned one dog. I’m a senior in college, and I still look forward to a trip to my parents’ house to see my beloved fuzzball again.

The oldest digital picture I have of she and myself. That was junior year of high school, before my Winter Ball. I was 16, and Chewy was 8.

Continue reading

15 Signs That You Grew Up in the Country

My last few posts have been pretty heavy in the serious stuff lately, so I decided it was time to lighten things up a bit. This blog is a somewhat manic blend of somewhat unrelated topics: internships, growing up, careers…and agriculture. So, of course, I have a little party inside of my head every time I can cross those things together. Without further ado, this is Kelly M. Rivard’s __ Signs That You Grew Up in the Country.

Continue reading