I want to begin my blog by telling you about my first experience living the “country life”.
I have to start off by telling you I brought this on myself. I began my fascination with the world of agriculture at a young age. My grandpa had some cattle in Texas but other than that the members of my family are NOT aggies.
Anyway, I joined the 4-H in 4th grade and showed a hog at the county fair. It snowballed from there. I continued to show animals (lambs) and became active in the F.F.A. (Future Farmers of America). During this time my love for cowboys blossomed. My friends deemed “Cowboy Take Me Away” by the Dixie Chicks my theme song. My freshman year of college I met Wade, the cowboy who stole my heart. He is perfect. Funny. Handsome. Loving. He is my cowboy.
Wade proposed to me in July (July 13th to be exact...) and within two months we moved out to the county. I moved to the country. I had never lived on an un-paved road until about a month ago and I am learning quickly that living out here is not all wildflowers and song birds.
About two weeks ago I kept hearing an incredibly loud crunching noise. I thought there was someone on our roof. I kept telling Wade about the noises I was hearing and he kept saying “there are noises in the country you have to get used to”. Ugh.
Then one day he heard it, and proceeded to tell me there was a rat in our attic. I had no idea rats were capable of making such a ruckus. I quickly demanded we get rid of the rat (it was above our kitchen for goodness sakes)! Poison was placed up there and the noises stopped. Peace on the ranch.
We had some friends over on Saturday for dinner and after we all went wine tasting ( oh the benefits of living in wine country!). When Wade and I arrived back home I went into the kitchen and it smelt funny. So I moped and all was well.
UNTIL SUNDAY MORNING. When the following happened:
- I grabbed my coffee cup and found a maggot, (yes mom a maggot) in my cup (it had fallen from the ceiling...)
- I went into the laundry room to get our dogs out and was floored by the most horrific smell
- I frantically tried to find Wade to tell him about the current situation (he is always logical and I was sure he would know what to do)
When I found Wade his reaction was quite simple. Disturbingly simple for a country-living virgin (that would be me). He walked into the kitchen and laundry area. Took a sniff, “yep”. Another sniff, “yep, it’s what I thought. That is the smell of a rotting rat.” GROSS.
I still have not decided which is worse, the noise of the rat or the smell of the rat. These are things you must contemplate when you live in the country.
Thanks for reading,Newfangled Country Girl