Full Circle

Around this time, 11 years ago, I was in Las Vegas, staying with friends and planning my move to the big city. It all started when I met a guy who knew a girl who needed a roommate. Let me preface by saying that I grew up in a small town, out in the country, on what my dad fondly called his "hobby farm". I hated the hobby farm. I did not enjoy helping in the garden. I did not enjoy picking rock and hoeing beans. I certainly did not enjoy cleaning the pig barn and hauling buckets of feed to the ugly, stinky pigs. I couldn't wait to grow up and move away. I longed for the bustle of a city. I knew it had to be far more glamorous to live in an apartment building, go to work in business suits and high heels, and have fancy restaurants right at my fingertips, than it was to clean pig poop everyday. Which brings me back to meeting the guy who knew a girl who needed a roommate.

It was summer, right before my 19th birthday, when I met The Guy. The Guy had lived in Phoenix where he met D. D had lived with a few girls but they had all gone their separate ways, leaving D alone. The Guy informed me D couldn't afford to live alone, and if a roommate didn't come along fast, she was going to have to move back to Michigan where she was originally from. My dream of the big city was finally looking like it could be reality. I flew to Las Vegas, where The Guy was living with his parents for the summer, and we drove to Phoenix to meet D. When we pulled up to her building, she was just coming home from an evening out rollerblading with a friend. We made the necessary introductions and all proceeded into the apartment. As we were talking, the friend mentioned that they were hiring where she worked and offered me a job on the spot. Things were falling into place better than I could have imagined. The next day we went looking for an apartment. It didn't take long to find the perfect place. We filled out the necessary paperwork which got the ball rolling on, what would turn out to be, a great adventure for this soon to be former country girl.

I lived in the big city of Phoenix for four years and absolutely loved it. My roommate would often comment on how at home I was there. While she longed for the green forests and solitude of Michigan, I did not miss the green grass and trees of Minnesota. I did not miss the acres of black farm land that I had grown up around. I did not miss the quiet of the country. I thrived on the hustle and bustle. I loved experiencing the shopping and restaurants I had never had access to before. So many exciting things to do were right outside my door, not an hour or more drive away like back home. Relaxing by the pool every Saturday morning was a far cry from getting up at o'dark thirty to pick rock in the field.

Things changed while I was in Phoenix. I had different roommates, different apartments, different jobs and different guys, but one thing remained. I loved the big city. After four years, circumstances were such that I needed to come back home. It was hard for me. Especially living through my first (and second and third) winter. I loved winter in Phoenix. Being home meant having to scrape ice and snow off of my car and it was a very rude awakening. I hated it. Hated so many things about home once again, and again, longed for the warmth and bustle of the big city.

I am not sure when I started to change. I don't know the exact day I came to love seeing the black fields, with the green rows of corn and beans, growing tall in the summer sun. I don't know exactly when it was that winter didn't seem so horrible and I actually thought the snow falling was pretty. I am not sure when this city girl turned into a country girl again, but it happened. Slowly, subtly and without warning. The other night I was mowing lawn, weeding the garden, watering the flowers and I loved every minute of it. I have found there is something very relaxing about getting my hands in the dirt, digging up weeds, or planting flowers. The very things I once hated, I have now acquired a whole new appreciation for. There are days now, when even the small town I live in isn't quiet enough, and I long for the quiet and solitude of the hobby farm in the country. As a kid, sometimes at night, I would sit outside and just look up at the sky and the stars and get lost in my thoughts and dreams. There are times I wish I could do that now. I live in a mostly quiet neighborhood, and I can see the stars, but there are always sounds of town in the background.

If anyone had told me 11 years ago that someday I would love the country, I would have laughed hysterically. It's funny how time changes our perspective. I have learned to never say never and I am not going to say that I will never live in a big city again, but right now the small town is what I am thriving on. No more do I long for the hustle and bright lights of the city. A walk on a warm summer evening, with the stars stretching endlessly above, is all the glamour this former city girl needs.