Country sounds...

If anyone tells you that living in the country will give you a quiet and peaceful life, don't believe them. They're not telling the truth.

As I type this, it is nearly 4:30 in the morning... Sunday morning. A train is going along the tracks in the next town and I can hear every blessed sound as the wheels move along those tracks. Then we have the engine's whistle, which used to sound very poignant years ago, but now has the decibel level of an air-horn. Three seconds after the train goes by, the coyotes start howling, which wakes up every dog in the hills here (including ours) and you can kiss the rest of your dreams goodbye.

I've been up and awake since two o'clock this morning. Since then, the train going by right this minute is the third train of the night, and I know it won't be the last. That train is miles away, but because all of the properties out here are so big, there's not much to buffer the sounds.

Our friends V & S were here this afternoon... they stopped by on their way back to Clear Lake. They had been further up in the Hill Country this morning and called me to see if we'd be home so they could say hello on their way back towards Houston. I was thrilled... we hadn't seen them since the night of our Christmas party. V & S had two of their friends with them, whom we had met before at a wedding and a baby shower, so it was an enjoyable hour for all of us that passed by all too quickly.

V asked me why I never drive into Clear Lake and Houston and without having to think about my answer, I told her that if I did that, I'd never want to come back here. V and the other two ladies looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. They said the house was so beautiful, the property so serene, and they would love to be able to get out of the City limits and live like this.

I explained to them that I didn't want to sound ungrateful, and I truly know how beautiful everything is up here, but I also know that one's mind can quickly turn to applesauce here because of a lack of really good bookstores, museums, and art galleries. And living on a big piece of property where days can go by without seeing anyone except whoever lives in your house isn't exactly a mind-expanding experience, either.

Added to the above, the cows on the neighbor's property across the road and on another neighbor's pastures behind us frequently fill the air with the saddest of sounds when their calves are taken away to market. The mama cows' cries are so pitiful as they search for their babies that sitting on our porch is downright painful and impossible. Then, when the goat-raising neighbor picks one of those goats for his Sunday dinner, there's no escape from the gut-wrenching cries as the young goat is captured, tied up, and then killed.

I watched V & S and M & G as they drove down our driveway this afternoon... headed towards Houston... they waved at us, we waved back... and I would have given everything to have gone with them.

I must change my attitude. I know that. But living out here is just flat-out hurting my heart. Not physically, but emotionally. And that's just as bad. I still love this big old house, but I wish it were somewhere else.