The Country in Any Country

There are certain things that are constant in rural areas the world over, which I find both comforting and ominous.

First, country people always have a place set aside in the woods, reserved for the purpose of dumping unwanted appliances. It is often in a valley, and surrounded by brambles. There's a place like this behind the old Dutch cemetary in Kinderhook, NY, where I grew up. I happened on it a long time ago because I was certain I heard a kitten in the valley. I skidded to the bottom of the hill--no kitten to be found, but plenty of rusty barrels, empty two liters, old plastic dolls, refridgerators, you name it. I'm now at the second of two farms I've stayed it in rural France, and in my off-time/off-road wanderings I've found similar pits in both places.

Second, an excessive amount of drinking and smoking goes on for no other reason than there is nothing else to do. I feared that visiting my sophisticated friends in Paris would turn me into a wine-guzzler and smoker. However, Parisian habits can't hold a candle to Charentian ones. The first farm was in wine country, the second not far from Cognac, and the farm boys here, much like those I grew up with, smoke a lot to look clever. (They are not, of course, clever).

Third is hunting (sounds a bit like bombs going off). In my brown sweater, I typically worry that I look like a deer.

The fourth is fun: me getting stuck in brambles on walks. False. It's not fun. It happens like this. I see a 'path' leading into the woods, and think "Cool!" Then it turns out that there isn't a path, but I becomed determined to make it out the other end. Most recently, the thorns were so thick that I actually crawled on my hands and knees until I reached a small stream, which I crossed on a log, and ended up in a cow pasture. It was interesting. The cows looked up at me like, "Uhhh...WTF?" So I hopped a fence and went off, my jeans ruined.

Much more coming soon, kids. Stay posted.

M