I wasn't joking when I told people at home in Utah that I feel like I enter a different country whenever I return there. The farm in Iowa and the city in Utah are like night and day. There are things I miss in Utah, mainly family and friends, but for the most part, I like Iowa better. I guess the quiet farm life just suits me better. I've never been a person who needs a mall to run to every weekend, and all the fancy stores. I don't like the hustle and bustle of city life. All I need is my garden and wide open country and I'm happy. The longer we are away, the more strange I feel going back to Utah. It seems so busy and loud and very crowded. It kind of makes me nervous. I get nervous in busy crowded restaurants. I HATE driving there... I feel like my life is in everyone's hands but my own. I do miss the movie theaters there. The one we have here has a screen that is not much bigger than home theaters nowadays. Ha ha! I also miss fry sauce. Mmmm. I miss the cooler, crisp night air in Utah. But, I certainly don't miss the pollution and the headaches that come with it!
Driving back to Iowa, as soon as we hit Nebraska my skin starts feeling less like a lizard and my nose doesn't bleed anymore when I blow it. It's great. The night we came home to Iowa was exceptionally hot and humid. We stopped at a rest stop about 11 pm and it was so humid that fog had formed over the corn fields. The moon was almost full, and the light reflected off the fog and it made it look like blankets were over the fields. It's was awesome. We stood and watched for a while until we about got carried off by mosquitoes so we started driving again. Humidity can do weird things. We were about 10 miles from home, cutting through the farm fields, when all of a sudden our car windows fogged up immediately. Not on the inside, but the outside. Turning on the defroster doesn't help, and windshield wipers don't do squat when there are millions of bug guts on the windshield. We had to pull over and wipe the windows with napkins in order to see. It's crazy. When we got home, I got out of the car and breathed in the humid smell of wet hay. Sounds gross, but it's a smell you get used to on a farm. It was purely silent except for the cicadas buzzing in the tree's, and I could see the stars sparkling brightly above. Ahhhh, I'm home.
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We're glad that you made it home safe. Almost every time I read this blog, I'm swept away to another world with 10 ft. snowdrifts, blankets of fog, and symphonies of chirrups and squeaks. Hope the puppies are doing better now that you're home. I guess we'll see you next year and the root beer floats are on us!
ReplyDeleteA bientôt.