I don't want to live here anymore. It's not the new Price Hill as one of my friends said but it is quickly becoming the new College Hill. The crime mostly sticks to the main streets. But I don't feel as safe as I did when we first moved here. Tonight I sat on my porch and talked to imaginary ghosts. The man who attacked me? He didn't stand a chance against my husband and neighbor who were inside, packing heat. Of course we don't have guns but it still felt good to act like we did.
I want to live where I can raise some laying hens, a goat for milk (and CHEESE), maybe even a sweet milking cow. I want the girls to know dirt and earthworms and box turtles. We don't even have bats here. Just squirrels and birds and the occasional rabbit.
I want to live somewhere else. With a town where everybody knows who everybody else is, no one gets lost there. There aren't pedophiles or rapists on every other street. I won't go as far as to say I want to be like the Pioneer Woman but I sure do envy her life. Her kids know what hay smells like and what calves need to drink and even what Rocky Mountain Oysters look like.
I didn't think I'd ever be here but I am where my mother always was, wishing we lived the Waltons' life.
6 years ago