Goodbye To All That ( Yes, I stole that from Joan Didion)

Hi! I’m Kelly and I’m so fucking lonely! (grabs ahold of your hand tightly) But don’t tell my husband! I picked this house out in the middle of nowhere and dragged my family to a faux brick colonial with 4 acres and Walden level tree coverage. It’s half a mile to my mailbox, where I get my contact with the outside world through Amazon. Yesterday my only social activity was yelling at dogs to stop barking at squirrels.
It wasn’t always like this. We lived in the city for twenty years! Raised three kids in a neighborhood where guys punched the air and screamed all night about those “sons of bitches!” There were robberies and assaults, terrible traffic, no parking and in the summer everything smelled like hot baked urine. I remember seething while suffering through one of the many daily endurance level gridlock moments, moving half an inch in an hour on 16th street, trying to squeak past triple parked bozos who loitered outside their vehicles to chat. Slapping my steering wheel, I vowed to never miss this slow, soul-sucking agony. Waving farewell to the parking tickets, the crime, the crowding, my leaky old federal row house, I was going to savor seeing this shit in my rearview mirror.

The first week in the woods was paradise. Crickets and frogs replaced roaring sirens. There was ample parking, a two car garage, we were spoiled for choice with multiple high-end grocery stores, and a fire pit where I could set everything I didn’t like ablaze. We bought hatchets, a leaf blower and several more weapon type outdoorsy things that made the Home Depot cashier play a round of ‘Outdoorsman or Serial Killer?’ in their head while they checked us out.

I don’t know if I can point to the exact moment things started to turn sour. Perhaps it was shortly after we started to get wildly thrilling jolts of middle-aged pleasure from scoring sick deals at the big box stores or when we began flagging down distant neighbors walking the lonely stretch of country road we live on to wave manically hoping for a return nod to quench our thirst for a dose of non-familial human contact.

Whenever it happened, it was a swift and powerful Kurtz, Heart of Darkness level descent into isolation and madness. Suddenly there were a thousand biblical level frogs on the driveway. Large angry spiders with mean faces and threatening looking stripes descended from the ceiling and spun six-foot webs in minutes. Deer ate everything and surrounded us on all sides. Foxes had awful sex parties all night in our back woods and screamed like porn stars on helium. The fresh hell of our tree-lined utopia was now clear. We were out of our element.

So, I’m sorry I’m holding your hand so firmly, with it clasped lovingly against my cheek, pouring out my heart, but I need this. I noticed you were wearing a smart Jil Sander smocklike garment with good shoes and I remembered this was the uniform of my people from long ago when I spent my days on concrete streets and my third child was afraid of grass on his bare feet because he had no idea what it was until he visited his aunt in upstate NY.

Now, when a flannel wearing local cocks his shotgun and fires at a row of beer cans, I become instantly nostalgic for getting a gunshot wound the proper way, from being in the wrong place at the wrong time on a city street, minding your own business while eating ice cream.

Advertisements

9 Comments

Filed under city mouse becomes country mouse, DC to PG, i miss the smells, moving to the country from the city, why are there so many angry animals that bite and have stingers

9 responses to “Goodbye To All That ( Yes, I stole that from Joan Didion)

  1. Being homesick sucks. If I lived close to D.C. I’d drive over to re-arrange your recycling bins, and shit on your driveway.

    • dufmanno

      To be fair, I used grotesque exaggeration to drive home the mind blowing differences in both existences. However, it should be noted that I love the house and the land despite the fact that Chuck and I will be heading back to civilization after the kids are out (not all that long from now *gasp*)

      • dufmanno

        And also? I used the word “level” no less than four million times in this because I still refuse to proofread or correct after it leaves my head.

  2. Should I feel guilty as I love your last paragraph? Was I experiencing a bout of schadenfreude? Now you also know how I feel living in the suburbs – I know it’s not the same since we don’t have crazy fox sex parties. Come to the Internet. I’ll hold your hand.

    • dufmanno

      *extends hand* thanks. I still feel guilty that I refused to edit out the poor and constant use of “level” even though it’s been bothering me since I vomited this out. It’s cheaper than therapy.

      • Yes. Definitely much cheaper than therapy. Also, I’d think the blogging sisterhood would not mind camping in your yard so we can howl with the crazy foxes.

      • And who knows? Some of us may be able to charm your neighbors with shotguns. Clarification: Not to charm them with our own shotguns. But to charm those who have shotguns.

  3. leslie

    OMG….I think I love you!
    Experiencing this right now. We sold our home and we are now in rural Nova Scotia.. wondering what we have done! hahahah….

    • dufmanno

      I bet you have a Benevolent Yeti less than a mile from your house. I think you might win the brace pioneer award with rural Nova Scotia- at least we have a Chik-Fil-A five mikes up the main road.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s