Gr-eeeeeeeen Acres is the place to be...

F-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaarm livin' is the life for me!

We've officially been in Carter for over a month now. It is nothing like Chico. It is also frighteningly more country than Chico. I say "frighteningly more country" as a city girl who never really saw much "country" unless it was a trip to the Prati's or my dad's on the weekend (and compared to Carter, those trips really don't count). I also say "frighteningly more country" because compared to Chico, Carter makes Chico look like the size of Dallas. (Case in point: I can drive to and back from the Post Office in only one song on the radio.)

Apparently, there is a thing called the "Rattlesnake Round-Up" this weekend in a nearby down. How, you ask, did we learn of the upcoming event? On a Sunday night when a friend told us that he and a buddy had spent the afternoon catching rattlesnakes to take to this event (...wait, it gets better) and throwing them down in his cellar where they will be kept till that time. The story ending with Andy practically jumping up and down with joy and declaring that we too would be going to the Round-up.

Last week when driving home from Wal-Mart, a Wal-Mart which by the way pretends to be and I was originally told was a Super Wal-Mart but so completely lacking that it is not even funny, I discovered sadly that there are only two, count'em two, radio stations which our Malibu gets out in the middle of nowhere. And, both ironically are not country.

Also, people here have this weird definition of a "small garden". To me, a small garden is a large flowerbed in which you plant a few seeds of various fresh veggies to delight your family through the summer. Here, a small garden is the size of a two car garage and will grow enough veggies in it to feed a large, third world country.

Another interesting quirk is that EVERYONE and their dog's uncle knows who Andy is. Everyone. We can't go anywhere without seeing someone he knows. This is a very weird change of pace after living in Fort Worth where we could go weeks, nay, months without running into anyone we knew at the grocery stores. It is also a little weird to me that everyone introduces themselves as "kin to" someone, as in "Hi. I'm Robin Banks. I'm kin to Dan Druff."

This weekend was interesting. The power in the town apparently goes out whenever anyone sneezes or anyone's dead ancestor sneezes, and someone's dead ancestor seemed to be having a sneezing fit all day Sunday. Every try curling your hair when the curling iron is only stays on at 45 second intervals? It was quite entertaining though watching the cat freak out every time the power would go out and then attempt to come back on. (Don't ask me why it freaked him out - I just live with him. I'm still trying to figure out why he's decided that my favorite flip-flops (at least the left one) are now his chew toys and his favorite things to chase are ice cubes on the kitchen floor!)

All that being said, I think we are living in one of the most beautiful places in the United States. The sunsets are spectacular. I have never been anywhere with brighter stars at night. You can see for miles in any direction. For the first time in my life, I've seen flocks of wild turkeys on several occasions. Everyone here greets you like they've known you forever and that is because everyone in the town has known each other forever, and by simply moving here we have been adopted into the town.

We can't drive anywhere without Andy telling me about something about his childhood. Never in our marriage have I seen him so relaxed. He hasn't lived this close to his family in over 10 years and I think being home is a relief since some of them may not be around as long as we would like.

It is good to be home. Very good.
(But I miss my sisters!)

Land spreadin' out so far and wide,
Keep Manhattan just give me that country side!

Have ya'll seen this?

I can't believe you forgot to tell me about this awesome site when you first introduced me to Dooce! But given I am not working at the moment and have an ungodly amount of time to do nothing, I found the link on Crazy Us.

All I can say is I am totally bummed that I found this site just as he went on a six to eight month hiatus. Move over National Geographic!


And no Father's Day hallmark card, either!

Ya know, its not so great living with parents that actually old enough to be my GRANDparents. (And, let me tell you, they certainly act like it too.) Mostly because I feel like I'm living in the 1960's. When I go out of the house, maybe to go shopping, its like Back to the Future!

Mom told me the other day that I should wash off the writing on my arm and start looking more like the "good young lady we wish you would be." What the hell?! Is that supposed to mean I, Dara Emilia Prati, am a hopeless case? Just because I don't look like a good little church-girl who wears pink and other pastels and doesn't like "that yelling music" but only listens to Beethoven and Mozart!!!!!! I think NOT! Dara Prati is going to stand up for her freedom to write all the wants on her arms AND NO ONE WILL STOP ME!!!!

But, you know what? Let them give me their weary, disappointed little looks. Let them ground me until the next Ice Age. Let them disapprove of every single thing I've become. I've decided that Kevan and Pamela Prati are Hopeless Cases. They think that just because they're my parents (if they even ARE), I am required to think what they think, to wear what they wear, and to have as boring and uninteresting a life as they do.

How ridiculous are parents, thinking they can MAKE their children believe and live the way they want them to? Before too long I'll be an adult myself, and out in the world, and living the way I want to. So where is all their tyranny going to get them? No phone calls on Mother's Day, thats what. Well, okay! I've got time. I can wait. One day I'll be free, and they'll be SORRY!

Well, okay...maybe not that sorry...