My Life In Ruins

I’m in the country. I. live. in. the. country. Not the urban city, not romantic Paris, not the kid-friendly suburbs but the chicken-smellin’ country. Youthful ambition matched with available property and at the age of 25 I was the proud owner of a...well, I’ll glorify it by calling it a ranch (although plantation has a much nicer ring to it).

Being a single woman on the farm I’ve had to learn to take care of a few things myself. Try priming the well in 20-degree weather. Or my favorite; crawling under the cross boards to place a heater on frozen pipes. I can handle these chores pretty well, just don’t make me deal with a spider! The vacuum is my tool of choice when dealing with these spawn of the devil. Just aim and suck. No more spider.

So here I am. Life on the farm. It’s a good life, my house has tons of character (haha…needs improvement). But what I love best is gathering friends around the campfire, deep conversations over coffee, and looking out my window in the mornings with the sun rising over the lake behind my house.