I'm a city girl by nature. For the greater part of my childhood we lived in a little mexican neighborhood. On the weekends, the street vendors were abundantly scattered throughout the main roads. You could find on any given corner someone selling the greatest mexican snacks you could ask for. There were palletas (mexican popsicles) in every kind of flavor you could think of. People had little rolling carts with Elotes (corn on the cob) smothered in butter and cheese and chili powder. I could go on forever. As a kid, we would hop on the city bus and head to the downtown beach were we hung out all day. We would be burnt to a crisp while my ma would cake on the noxema....really? noxema?...no sunscreen just stinky white cream after the burn fest...well, it was the 70's.
Later years moved me into the suburbs, less congested but still close to everything. My move to the suburbs is where my love for Big Daddy began. After years of married life, our lives took us further and further from the city limits to the place I now call home. I have called the country my home for over 10 years now. I have grown to love it, although I wasn't sure if I ever would. I love the quietness and the roaming space. I love my clothesline and watching everything wave in the breeze. I don't like to actually hang the laundry, but the kids are pretty good at it, so I'll just watch them hang it :) We've recently got a couple of good rains so I've been watching the same load dry for about 2 days. The "grannies" blowing around on the line are making me self conscious, thank God only my clan has shared my view out the back window.
Here we are, the real reason for this post. As you have previously read, I would consider myself a pretty well adjusted country girl. (Side note.....Big Daddy got a cowboy hat last summer....that awakened feelings in me I didnt know existed....wait did I just write that? anyhoo, girls...if your man doesnt already have a cowboy hat, I suggest you run right out and get one). Ok, where was I? So, Im driving down my country road minding my own business and I run over something in the road. It wasnt an animal or bird as you might suspect although I have been known to go into a mild depression after hitting birds and once a racoon. It was small, and wait.....was that a knife?! I circle around to check thinking of the new tires I just got in the winter and think "oh great ! then.....oh hey, I'll give it to Big Daddy, he'll love it". Yup, it was an OPEN pocketknife, my imagination kicks in. Why was there a knife in the middle of the road?! Did someone unknowingly drop it or was it part of a bigger scheme?! My mind races, so I did what any illogical person would do who has watched one to many crime dramas....I called the police. Yes, I know what your'e thinking...My man thought the same thing as he just shook his head in embarrasement. The dispatcher assured me that someone must have dropped it and its ok to just throw it away...ok, tragedy averted, my mind is again at ease.
I never did tell you about the box turtle that wanted to fight me on the road. Yesterday, we're driving down yet another country road and I pass a turtle in the road. We were excited and then nervous because of impending doom if an unsuspecting car sent this little dude to his maker. Do I keep driving? No way! I pull over, tell the kids to stay in the car, and approach the turtle to pick him up, show the kids then carefully put him in the grass. Now before you start to worry, be assured that there were no other cars around at the time so all was good. As I get closer to the turtle he begins to run, yes, you read right...run. Then he began to hiss...I should have stopped chasing him but I didnt and I barely could touch him as he escaped my grasp. How sad that a turtle whooped my rear end in a race. I hang my head low in defeat as I get back in the car and drive away . Now, just to find some hand sanitizer........