Life in Green Country
The winter of 2010 in Green Country, Oklahoma was unforgettable. I woke one morning to a 15” snowdrift resting its frozen self by my door. When I opened the door, I could see the imprint of the panels my door left in the drift’s backside. Further inspection revealed four feet tall snowdrifts between my apartment building and my neighbors’ apartment building across the courtyard. My poor Corgi had such a time! Kind of sadistically funny to watch her in the piles of snow, all I’d see is ears. Turns out she loved playing in it, go figure. She became a furry submarine.
The hubs and I were snowbound for four days. Four days! Can you imagine? It was frustrating, infuriating and rather illuminating all at the same time. It reminded me of the blessed fact that I had a roof over my head, warm blankets and warmer arms to surround me. It also reminded me just how much I took my desert clime for granted.
I have to admit, after almost 20 cumulative years of living in Las Vegas, I was use to hot time and cool time (there are no seasons any longer in southern Nevada, just degrees of heat and cool.) Well, now we’re smack dab in the middle of summer in northeastern Oklahoma. It has been as hot and blistering in Moo-klahoma (obscure reference will be explained momentarily) as the summers in Vegas, trust me. Whether there is humidity or not, you just wither in the excessive heat wave.
I take comfort in all the green surrounding me. It reminds me there is water here although I do believe it headed to cooler climes. It has been a bit since it rained with any serious intention. Oh, we have had a couple of thunder boomers recently, but they seemed more intent on reminding you that they could kick your ass if they wanted it’s just too hot and they didn’t have the energy to follow through. They’d blow in, bluster and bluff, however, they are nothing in comparison to their springtime brothers and sisters who stomped the hell out of the mid-west this year with cruel abandon. My prayers and compassion go out to those fellow mid-westerners injured, killed and/or devastated by these awful examples of nature’s fury. That power humbles you, trust me on this one. You are so helpless, insignificant really against such voraciousness.
Everyone who knows me, knows my inspiration trigger lies within nature’s ability to hypnotize me. I can sit and stare into trees bending gently in a spring breeze the light shining through the leaves that speckles the desk I am sitting at with sunlight can cause my imagination to take me to all kinds of places. Living here has been, for the most part, enjoyable. The country folk tend toward neighborly, will chit chat a might then go on about their lives. That seems to be their way. Not too in your business, not too unaware of you either, just in case you’re someone they have to ride herd on because you “just ain’t right.” Seriously though, I’ve met some super nice, kind hearted people here. It tends to restore one’s jaded faith a little bit.
As for the Moo-klahoma comment…I stumbled upon a scene one morning driving to work that dropped my jaw and made me laugh in that “Holy Cow!” kind of way. Ooh, pun so not intended I swear. I was heading west on 412 toward downtown Tulsa when I noticed a large (I mean pony size large) black bulk on the eastbound side of the interstate. At first, I thought it was a big ole truck tire that blew out. Upon closer inspection, my second thought was “Dear God, someone hit a bear!” terrible and sad, until I recalled there really aren’t any bears around here any longer. When I was eye to eye with the pitiful creature, I realized it was a cow, an Angus, as a matter of fact.
First, OMG! Someone HIT a cow. Second, which is where I did release an incredulous chuckle, not at the situation overall of course, but at the thought that occurred to me as I passed by the poor thing.
Never saw that in Vegas.
Since then I’ve experienced two more similar events, only the cows (they were all female)— how do I know, you ask, trust me there’s no mistaking them, bulls have a completely different look and are far more intimidating. The mobile milk factories on hooves were leaping, frolicking and eating the greener grass on the other side of the fence with wild, gleeful abandon. These are the most stubborn, dumbest, craftiest creatures I have ever met and I mean it. Yet they have the most beautiful soulful eyes with luscious thick eyelashes you will ever see. Two of my friend’s cows like to lick me and love to have their ears scratched. (She also has a white chicken and a strawberry blonde chicken who love to weave in and out of my legs like a cat, but that’s a story for another day.)
Such is the life of living in the KOUNTRY and yes, I’m still spelling it with a ‘K’. While this state has its problems, there is a beauty and a simplicity here that remind you baseball is still great, football is even greater, pies of all manner of fruit abound, and hot dogs (or bar-b-que) are red blooded American past times—still.
Thank you, CR for allowing me to guest blog. Thank you all for sharing my little corner of the world for a time. Speaking of corner, if you are ever in the mood to say “hello” stop on by From My Corner from Erin Sinclair http://erin-sinclair-author.blogspot.com where I write about anything that strikes my fancy!
CR, as usual, you are “bombalicious” in my book, my dear! See you around the web, everyone!
Sincerely,
Erin Sinclair
“For love that’s out of this world!”
