Just a City Girl…

I’m really just an urbanite at heart.

You won’t see many of these in Franklin, TN – although my husband drives one!

I’ve come to realize this, after moving thirty minutes from Nashville’s city center. In the course of that relatively short commute, congestion and Priuses are traded for pastoral scenes and huge SUVs.

Sure, I love our big back yard, not hearing traffic all day long, and being able to sprawl out in all this square footage. But the maintenance…sheesh!

We thought a bug had eaten the bush…turns out it’s just the sun.

We were forced to make the call to a landscape person. No matter the amount of weekend yard time Jeremy puts in, the bushes in the front are completely dead, and the bed in the back yard (that used to hold colorful assortments of flowers) has now gone completely to the weeds. The guy came out and pretty much said the bushes were dying for lack of shade and water. And sure, we have an irrigation system, but we’d really rather not spend THAT MUCH money on monthly water bills…simply for our bushes to be as green and lush as the neighbors.

What’s a city girl supposed to do?

I told the landscaper that I wanted something easier. Something so low maintenance that it could take care of itself. After all, it’s a bush right? Don’t some varieties of those things grow in the back country of Australia, where an over-abundance of sun and heat is readily available? Surely I can get something that will thrive in the humidity of Tennessee…or at least not embarrass the neighbors?

The good news is that this rural living has allowed me to see life a new way.

I see the consumerism around me (not that it wasn’t present in the city) and realize that perhaps I don’t need the fully landscaped back yard. Maybe, just maybe, grass will do. Perhaps I’m not a gardener. With past dreams of growing my own organic vegetables behind me, I can put away my imaginary shovel and content myself from purchasing produce from the people that make it their livelihood. That way I contribute to the local community, and don’t have to feel guilty that maybe I’m not Suzy Homemaker.

Maybe I’m an urban girl who’s experiencing the suburban life for the time-being.

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