Tuesday, January 12, 2016

Country Roads

There is something about a dirt road that really does take me back to my home roots.

I grew up in a small rural town, where there were far more dirt roads than paved ones.   On those roads, cows had the right of way, as did the occasional bear.  The nearest "city" with a population of 5,000 was several miles away.   Our town boasted a general store that had a remarkable inventory considering its small size.  Many of my dresses were made from the bolts of fabric stacked in one corner.  My first date consisted of sitting on the front steps of that store on a Friday evening, sharing an ice cream cone and chatting with other teens.

In this day of fast-paced electronic games that must continually be replaced or upgraded, I fondly remember the entertainment of earlier times.  Good books were meant to be read more than once.  The farm pond provided hours of swimming enjoyment in the summer and ice skating in the winter.  Rainy days were invitations to gather our instruments and make music.   I played the piano, my cousin was on the saxophone and my best friend brought her selmer clarinet.  Soon, my mother's voice would join in from the kitchen and my father's voice rang out from his office.   Evening entertainment included jigsaw puzzles and board games.  Those board games never needed to be upgraded.  Our scrabble board was over forty years old.  While we played, we talked.  Just face-to-face conversation, no texting or social media needed.    Country roads, take me home.  

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