I might be city born and breed, but I am country.
A country girl. A small town girl.
I have changed so much, my life has changed.
My world is farmers fields, small town life. Rural.
And I love every second of it.
Each day I start early.
A cup of tea, healthy breakfast.
Do a bit of admin work, phone calls, emails.
Then I jump in my car and head up to the "site", otherwise known as the farmhouse flip.
Stopping for gas at the local gas bar, the clerk happily tells me the breakfast deal of the day at the little restaurant next door.
I wave on my way out, she waves back.
Heading up my country road, just a few of us live on this long stretch of gravel. Population 6.
I pass a large beast of a farm tractor, barely staying on the road to get around him. I wave, he waves back.
A little ways down the road, I see another farmer in his field, in his John Deere. I wave, he waves back.
Listening to my tunes, enjoying the peaceful setting of my drive, that same pickup truck I see each morning.
I wave, he waves back.
I let the crew in, give out instructions. Stick around for a bit, oversee that work is on track.
I walk to the back barns. Not because I need anything, but just because.
I stand, listen to the soft whoosh of the wind turbines. This will never get old....so cool.
Armed with a list of supplies I have to purchase for my construction crew, I head into town.
In the hardware store, that nice young man, don't know his name, but he recognizes me each time I come in. The friendliest person.
We joke, we talk, he gives me advice, I barter.
He follows me up to the pretty young cashier. He only has eyes for her. He flirts. I smile at them. A little bit of small town romance.
Standing around, the older farmers talk and laugh. Years of comradery.
Not sure I have ever had someone not talk to me as we wait in line.
I have mastered the art of small talk, or rather, small town talk.
As I maneuver around town in my Jeep, I notice all the new signs for the upcoming summer rodeo.
The entire town seems to be buzzing with this exciting event.
Driving through the Tim Horton's, not sure when she started calling me "hon".
But there she is every afternoon, serving me up my coffee through the window.
This is my life. This is my world.
I belong here.
This is a day in the life of a country girl.