This Plinky prompt asked if I prefer the city or the country. The short answer is both.

The last house I lived in as a child (and the house my parents still live in) in in the COUNTRAY. Not the country, the countray. As in, for the majority of my time there, our nearest neighbor was over a mile down the road in either direction. As in, our water came from a well and we had our own electric poles on the property. As in, the house was located on a dirt road (it’s paved now, but it was dirt then). As in, the nearest full grocery store was at one time almost an hour away (highways have since been built so it’s not as far, but it was far back then). Like I said, the countray.

It has its positives though. It’s very quiet, if you like quiet. It’s beautiful, though I did not truly appreciate it until I had left. People care about each other more in rural communities though – at least in the one I grew up in. If somebody dies in your family, they bring you a plate and ask about you and make their kids call you and check on you. Neighbors are not afraid to help each other (in the city I have found a lot of people who are scared to reach out and it renders them aloof to their fellow citizens).

Don’t get me wrong, I am within walking distance to a great grocery store and library and I appreciate this fact, but I also embrace my close proximity to local farms, greenbelts, wooded trails and mountains when civilization gets to be too much.