I've been sleeping in my new house, in a rural area of Pennsylvania, for just about a week now. There are still boxes to be unpacked and I haven't yet acclimated to the smell of fresh manure.
As with everything, it will take time to adjust.
The past few days, as I've been traveling around my new town and surrounding areas, I've realized the pace here is slower than what I'm used to. It feels good. There is less hustle and bustle, and I can't say I've met anyone who really cares what you drive or what you're wearing.
Speaking of what people wear, "camo" is rather popular round these parts.
Tonight, after two rather exciting little league games, we stopped at a drive in restaurant for "supper." We ate grilled cheese "baskets" and ordered ice cream to go. The restaurant was filled with little kids in uniforms and cleats, and older couples having dinner. The atmosphere was laid back, and the food was inexpensive.
When we arrived home, there was fresh sausage in the freezer. Puzzled, I asked Hubby where the sausage came from? He told me the neighbor left it on the deck. He knew this because a friend came to mow our lawn as a "housewarming" gift while we were at little league. Knowing we still need a tractor, he drove his truck over, loaded with his tractor, and perfectly mowed our acre of property. As he was mowing, the farmer across the street dropped of fresh sausage.
I must admit, I could get used to this. I'm thrilled to say the kids are adjusting fabulously as well. I feel like I can finally breathe and begin to enjoy the scenery. And the people. And the fresh sausage.
Country livin' ain't half bad. As a matter of fact, it's pretty awesome.
Wishing everyone a wonderful Sunday, and an even better week ahead!