In two weeks, I am moving into Bill’s house. Bill’s house is in a more rural area of Monroe County, in the Pocono Mountains, sort of stuck between two larger towns (and by “larger towns,” I mean “towns that have a grocery store and fast food restaurants”).
I didn’t realize really how rural we were talking until I noticed two things yesterday while leaving said rural area. The first was that to get to “town” (and this town is more of the “two bars, one church, and one gas station” variety), I had to pass cows. There were lovely Holsteins, grazing in a field. Behind someone’s house. Not on a farm. The second was that while I was coming out of the gas station, where I had stopped to buy a soda, I witnessed a woman driving up to the pump on her ride-on mower to fill the gas tank on that bad boy. Yep. She rode her mower to the gas station.
Green Acres, here I come!