Thursday, January 27, 2011

the middle of nowhere

  I’m not going to get my brand new SUV all dusty on the unpaved road leading to your house. 
That's what the car-crazed nephew said emphatically.
         How long does it take to get to the mall? 
 The teenage niece whined.
         It’s too depressing visiting your rural town. 
One sister used to cruising freeways at high speed added in her two cents.
         It’s a cute little cabin in the woods.
Another relative smugly commented picturing her own huge suburban Macmansion with umpteenth square footage.
        Not much going on around you, is there? 
They all chimed in unison with heads bobbing and arms folded neatly.

         We’ve heard it all before, and we will hear it again and again. Our grown siblings and their children can’t understand why we live in the middle of nowhere, AND what’s even more incredulous is that we appear contented, happy and living life to the fullest with all sorts of cultural stimulation, outdoor pleasures and opportunities for volunteer service.
         We both say life is what you make of it, and contentment is a state of mind even in the middle of nowhere. Oh, but our nowhere is the lovely Finger Lakes hills.