Green Acres

I keep hearing this song.  I think it's because I'm a city boy living in the country.  Now I'm moving back to the city, into a good house in a quiet neighborhood, with a wonderful woman.

I've enjoyed my time out here.  I came to get back on my feet, "find myself" and relax.  I found an old schoolhouse on the edge of a small town, not too far from a big city.  I mean, a really small town- 10 houses and a grain elevator.  I hear roosters in the morning, and sometimes cows and sheep (the kids across the way are in 4H.)  I have two neighbors, but they're not close and I rarely talk to them.  They're nice, and quiet, and do their own stuff.  Perfect neighbors (though my sweetie suspects some of them are up to no good...)  Down on the corner, some of the townfolk invited me to their cider pressing, and loaned me their deed abstract going back to 1808 and signed by President Madison.

I did some digging into the history of my place. It was built as a school in 1885, and was a school for about 15 years.  One of the kids in the last class ran the grain elevator in the middle of the last century, and I know some of his grandkids.  I had hoped to do some actual digging- into the cistern, maybe use a metal detector in the yard- but I never got around to that.  I'm leaving some pictures and a note on the history for the next tenant.

It's been a good couple of years.  In the country, but very close to the city.  (A real city, though when I go "into town" it's sometimes to the one with three stoplights...)  All the benefits of both.  I am looking forward to living with my sweetie, though, in the heart of the city.