You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy

I’ve said many times that I grew up in rural (VERY rural) northern New Hampshire. But I haven’t said that for the last 15 years, I’ve lived in cities. I prefer the cities. I like the services and conveniences of urban life (at least, “urban” by New Hampshire standards), and I think I would rather move to Massachusetts than move back to East Bum, Cow Hampshire.

That being said, there are certain things about the country life that I do miss. And last week I was reminded of one of them.

I was out for a drive, and I went past a freshly-mown field. The scent of fresh-cut grass overwhelmed me, and I very nearly pulled over in euphoria.

Then, a couple minutes later, I came upon a road project — replete with the stench of freshly-laid asphalt. I wanted to gag.

My heart and soul belong to the city, but my nose is still up north. And I think I’d rather smell fresh cow crap than hot tar.

So Long, Thanks For The Memories
Back In The Saddle Again...

4 Comments

  1. sabrina August 28, 2005
  2. goddessoftheclassroom August 28, 2005
  3. fatman August 28, 2005
  4. mark m August 29, 2005