Yep! I Live in the Country

I've talked a lot about my house, but I haven't discussed a lot about the area I live in. It's a pretty small town in Western Maryland. I can traverse the 2 main streets of the town in about 10 minutes, if that gives you any idea of the size. The town is surrounded by a variety of agriculture. There are 6 orchards within a 3 minute drive of my house and an excellent butcher who's offerings come from a 30 mile circumference of the town. So...you can't get fresher than that for produce and meats. More importantly there are 2 liquor stores within a 3 minute drive. You can't get anymore drunk than that!!!

I've always live rurally. I grew up in a slightly larger Small Town than I live in now. There is something truly priceless about small town living. Sure, I could have moved to somewhere a bit more cosmopolitain, but why? I have everything I need right here.

My town even has parades...3 of them a year, and my house is directly on the parade route. We have the Carnival Parade every summer, the Homecoming Parade in the fall and every year...the parade that accompanies the annual Steam & Craft Festival. Steam? What??? Well yes, every year they haul out the ancient steam powered farm machinery that powered our early nation and show it off. In addition they have great food and well...crafts. I'm not so much into the crafts, but the food...I enjoy that very much.

During the parade you see sights such as this...

Yep, powered entirely by steam.

And this...

It's like a train and tractor combined!

Aside from some of the cool steam powered engines that I'm hoping are around when the Zombie Apocalypse hits, it also is a very family centered affair.

Like father, like son..oh wait, like daughter? Good for her!

The scary part of the parade is at the end. Everyone in town who owns a riding lawn mower saddles up and rides through town behind the steam engines.

 I'm so glad I don't own a riding mower.

Only slightly more shocking are some of the social idioms the parade seemed to enforce. Photographical evidence follows...

Wife in the wagon.

Grandma in the wagon.

And yep...grandma is clutching a flag in that picture. So yes, I do live in the country. A town where the women-folk aren't allowed to drive mowers, but are resigned to riding in the wagon. If I had a riding lawnmower and a wagon you had better believe The Hubby would be driving it while I sat in the wagon with Molly, sipping on a martini and throwing candy and condoms out to those observing!