Welcome to the Country - Memorial Day by, Charity Maness

Welcome to the Country

So you’ve decided to move to the country where Memorial Day is not just another day to have a bar-b-que.

In the fast and frenzied world of political correctness some of our country’s more traditional holidays seem to have become glossed over with the simple promise and expectation of a paid day off, block parties, and fun in the sun. Sometimes the true meaning of the holiday itself seems to get lost amid all the activity.

Out here in the country we have not forgotten what Memorial Day stands for. It’s not just another paid holiday, another day to bar-b-que, and play in the sun.

It’s a day to remember.

Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country

So you’ve decided to move to the country where life may be just a might bit slower than you had imagined.

If you have lived here, say goin’ on four or five months now, you have undoubtedly been a recipient of our own unique brand of country type traffic jams. That would be the interminably slow moving traffic caused by a tractor meandering its way along, what anyone not living here would perceive as a country road, but we all know as a major roadway. Normally a slow tractor is viewed as just another aspect of life in the country to be patiently tolerated, but when that tractor is between me and the nearest coffee shop, that is when said tractor becomes a problem.

I digress. 

Recent Travels of a Country Girl by, Charity Maness

As we all know, living in the country has it own set of challenges when attempting travel outside of say...the county. However, on this trip I am destined for Boulder Colorado, home of the free loving, tree loving and 'legalize it' crowd! I have packed my tevas and my tye dye and I am ready to go.

A peaceful 2 1/2 hour drive to SFO ( a quick Starbucks stop along the way), most assuredly the last possible spot to park in long term parking (out in the gravel and dust), a short bus hop to the airport and I have arrived at SFO Int'l. Being the ever vigilant traveler I have my less-than-three-ounce-liquids all in a zip lock bag, my laptop at the ready for its own plastic xray box and as little clothing as possible on so as not to tie up the line when stripping off a deadly belt or killer stiletto heels. Slip the sling backs off and I'm good to go.

Not so fast. Apparently my itty bitty dress with absolutely no embellishments that left little to the imagination - not that imagination is needed after the whole body scan was complete - set off some alarm. Icky pat down in places better left unsaid by a woman that even my beefiest son would have a hard time taking down and I was cleared, with plenty of time to spare. Time to people watch.

Welcome to the Country - where languages change with the season

Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country, By, Charity Maness

So you’ve decided to move to the country where the language changes with the season.

Yes we have multiple languages up here in the foothills, nothing that is recognized a ‘real’ language thereby making us bilingual, but a language unto itself none the less.

I am speaking of the language of the season, as in, deer season, turkey season, boar season, etc. The first time Wyatt asked if I could find a D4 topo map I thought he had gone bonkers. Was that his lazy attempt at shortening WD-40? As if WD-40 was not short enough already. And what the heck was a topo map? One look of stunned amazement from my husband and a knowing disappointed shake of his head I knew I was missing something. He gently pulled me aside and explained that D4 was an area that one could hunt deer at a specific time of year, and that a topo map was an aerial type map showing terrain. I nodded; not wanting to let on that it was going in one ear and out the other. 

Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country ~ by, Charity Maness

So you’ve decided to move to the country where the Fourth of July weekend, by default, somehow becomes a yearly family reunion weekend.

We would all like to think that we come from reasonably stable, intelligent, and normal families…. we are in denial. It only takes the annual Fourth of July family reunion to remind us that our roots may be a bit more fabricated throughout the year than we would like to admit.

First there is the Uncle Hen. Odd, I know, but it was shortened from Henry, as if Henry is not short enough. Uncle Hen plays the fiddle causing some strange stirring in your mother to dance. Evidently dancing alone is not permitted so Uncle Carl joins in. The same Uncle Carl who for some reason can never seem to find a shirt to cover his gray haired sun burned chest. He did however manage to keep one strap of his overalls on. One must be thankful for the small things. 

We can’t forget Marge; who she’s related to I can’t recall. Marge for the last millennium has sported a bouffant beehive hairstyle reminiscent of the leaning tower of Pisa. No one has the where with all to inform her that this hairstyle may be slightly out of date or that the kids have been putting rolly polly’s in her “nest.” Let’s throw in, for good measure, the cousins: the ones that pick their noses, the ones that beat you up and the ones that cause you to question their sanity, don’t forget to throw in the cowboy, the gang banger, and the nerd. 

Welcome to the Country ....THE BOOK! Now available

If you have been enjoying the 'Welcome to the Country' humor columns... you will love the book!

'Welcome to the Country' is a humorous look at life in the country, from cow pie bingo to rocky mountain oysters, to the random collection of tractors in our yards that we proudly refer to as yard art. Luckily for us, those  rusty old tractors, discarded comodes bursting with wildflowers, and windmills squeaking in the breeze, have put us country folk on the cutting edge of 'eco art'. Who would have guessed?

 

The book includes collections of Welcome the the Country humor columns from '09 thru '12.

 

                                                           

Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country, by, Charity Maness

So you’ve decided to move to the country where man’s best friend loves to bring his master a variety of gifts…

We are all familiar with the dogs that bring newspapers, mail and slippers, but are you familiar with what the country dog fetches?

This is my reality of owning a dog in the country.

As I may have mentioned before, it is common knowledge among the ‘old timers’ in these here parts that the only ‘good’ dog is a cattle dog…however a coyote would beg to differ as they seem to prefer the Yorkies and Chihuahuas, but I digress. So once you’ve decided you are comfortable with your country existence, you can walk in boots without stumbling, your Wranglers have broken in enough to sit down AND breath, and you don’t roll up your car window when you see a snake because you now know they cannot jump into your car…it is at this point you think you are ready for a dog.

Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country by, Charity Maness

So you‟ve decided to move to the country where the meaning of community is found in our big country hearts …..

Though some may think their sweet intelligent children could not possibly be attempting to build better, faster, stronger propulsion devises, the majority may find that if their child has testosterone, they may be wrong.

The following is an excerpt from my book “From Positive Test to Empty Nest,” a humorous journey through motherhood, available at Amazon.com.

"Along with learning about firearms comes a natural curiosity about the actual explosion that causes the bullet propulsion. Next thing you know your sons that are barely getting passing grades in science are building potato launchers by themselves! Go figure. We nipped the potato gun invention in the bud - lol. But that did not inhibit their thirst for knowledge of all things explosive.

One beautiful summer day, hot and dry, our sons 'Pete' and 'Repeat' (using their nicknames - like y'all don't know who I am speaking of), with the aid of their fellow partner in crime, we'll call him TA to protect his identity, created a small bomb launcher. With all their juvenile testosterone filled wisdom they think to try it out with a bottle rocket first. All is going as planned until two of the boys freak out and beat feet. Leaving my son 'Pete' to hold the launcher that has been lit and is pointed at our front knoll, the same knoll that is currently and conveniently covered with acres of dry grass and scrub oak. Uh oh. The two 'innocent' boys come skidding around the corner of the house into the back yard, where we adults were attempting to relax, to inform us whats up. We run out front just in time to see a beautiful wild land fire fully engulfing our grassy knoll. Oh boy. Luckily I had the foresight to strategically place 100 foot hoses all around the property for just such an emergency."

Believe it or not, that little glimpse into my book leads to the story of the big-hearted country folk.

Welcome to the Country, a humorous look at life in the country~ By, Charity Maness

So you’ve decided to move to the country where Memorial Day is not just another day to have a bar-b-que.

In the fast and frenzied world of political correctness some of our country’s more traditional holidays seem to have become glossed over with the simple promise and expectation of a paid day off, block parties, and fun in the sun. Sometimes the true meaning of the holiday itself seems to get lost amid all the activity.

Out here in the country we have not forgotten what Memorial Day stands for. It’s not just another paid holiday, another day to bar-b-que, and play in the sun.

It’s a day to remember.

Welcome to the Country ~ By, Charity Maness

So you’ve decided to move to the country where the county fair can be a hoppin’ good time!

In Calaveras County we have the honor and distinction of hosting the Calaveras County Jumping Frog Jubilee, a frog movement that began on May 19 and 20, 1928, on Main Street in down town Angels Camp. 

When out of towners shake their heads at the odd name of our fair we foothill folk are aghast that those poor souls have such a gaping hole in their literary education that they have not heard of the famous book by Mark Twain, “The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County.” Though shocked, we secretly feel superior in the knowledge that we have not only heard of the famous work, many of us have actually read some of the stories in the collection. 

While some come to a fair expecting to see the usual daredevil rides, consume every fried food known to man, partake of the local vintners latest creations, and peruse the exhibits; the fair goer with the more discerning taste will pack their children, cousins, in-laws in their car along with enough food to feed an army and head to the foothills for the experience of a lifetime… the opportunity to jump a frog! 

Welcome to the Country, a humorous look at life in the country ~ By, Charity Maness

So you’ve decided to move to the country where the road less traveled loses its philosophical meaning and leans more towards reality…the reality of whether you can make it to the end of that less traveled road with your car intact.

Wandering down one of our many meandering country lanes, one will undoubtedly have the wonderful opportunity of viewing our local flora and fauna; a hawk here, a deer there, wildflowers here, sprigs of glossy red rash causing poison oak there. Throw in a rusty windmill and forgotten foundations of long forgotten homesteads and the picture everyone has painted in their mind of the proverbial country road is complete. 

The one aspect of the country road that is overlooked and sometimes forgotten is the condition of said road. If one wishes to keep ones teeth unchipped and their muffler still attached to their auto they may wish to consult the locals before venturing too far out the ‘back roads.’ There becomes an even greater danger to those that seek the thrill of the wind in their hair and the open road stretching before them. I’m speaking of motorcyclists. Though our roads call to them…so do the bees and the potholes big enough to bury a Volkswagon bug.

Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country ~ By, Charity Maness

So you’ve decided to move to the country where on this side of the continental United States the viewpoint is much different from say….Kentucky.

On assignment in Kentucky…

The good news? No tornados…yet. Seeing as how that last time I visited this little slice of Kentucky known as Irvine (pronounced Ervin) the local postmaster (who now knows be by name..that being ‘the gal from Caleefornee) said, “I knew y’all were headin’ into town on account of the bad weather” I am grateful to not be the bearer of bad weather…this trip. You might have to read that long sentence again. I know I did.

Welcome to the Country, a humorous look at life in the country ~ By, Charity Maness

So you’ve decided to move to the country where ownership of a cowboy hat and cowboy boots does not necessarily make you a cowboy.

Upon reading my last article you may have concluded that through perseverance and a large amount of humility you too can learn to ride a horse. Of course I did add my own observation that testosterone and horses are a potentially hazardous mix.

I will clarify this statement. Testosterone in a city dude and horses are unquestionably a hazardous mix. I derive this conclusion from experience. Please read on.

Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country ~ by, Charity Maness

So you’ve decided to move to the country where owning a horse is actually the easiest part of owning a horse.

Moving to Tombstone with my Wyatt has been full of adventures but none more exciting than livestock ownership. Having had cows, hogs, emu’s, chickens, bunnies, and a variety of other livestock it must be said that there is most definitely an easier way to get a meal on the table. Horses however, do not fall in the meal category in my book, and if they fall in anyone else’s category of a meal I for one certainly do not want to know about it.

Seeing these majestic animals running free through the many open pastures here in the foothills, makes ones heart warm and creates a keen desire to own one of these creatures. It’s not difficult to find a horse in these parts, it’s just hard to find a good horse. After all, who in their right mind would sell a ‘good’ horse? 

Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country

So you’ve decided to move to the country where life may be just a might bit slower than you had imagined...

If you have lived here, say goin’ on four or five months now, you have undoubtedly been a recipient of our own unique brand of country type traffic jams. That would be the interminably slow moving traffic caused by a tractor meandering its way along, what anyone not living here would perceive as a country road, but we all know as a major roadway. Normally a slow tractor is viewed as just another aspect of life in the country to be patiently tolerated, but when that tractor is between me and the nearest coffee shop, that is when said tractor becomes a problem.

I digress. 

Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country ~ By, Charity Maness

Welcome to the Country

So you’ve decided to move to the country where banding may not have quite the definition you thought it had…

So , if you’re not from the country you may think of banding as a group of friends getting together or a gathering of like minded people. However, if you live in the country it has a different meaning altogether.

Around Spring time each year when the hills turn a brilliant green and the wild flowers are bursting from their bulbs, we see lots of new little kids born. Not the bipedal kind, no, I’m talkin’ about the quadrupeds, the ones that prance around the field like the mythological little satyr…minus the flute..and the human form on top...and the fingers… I digress… 

Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country ~ By, Charity Maness

Welcome to the country… with a Kentucky twist.

So, you’ve decided to move to the country where you wonder if you may have just left civilization behind.

With this question in mind I’ve decided to take a look at how other folks in different parts of the country live their country life. If you thought we were a bit off our rocker’s here in Calaveras County wait ‘til you read what they are doin’ in Hazard Kentucky. Yup, Hazard. That should be your first clue right there.

Have you ever heard of a dry County? Me either – ‘til I came to Kentucky. With that said, let me explain a bit about dry counties. It’s not called dry for lack of water, goodness knows that’s everywhere and stagnant too I can assume by the size and abundance of their mosquitoes and greenery as far as the eye can see. No, dry means simply no booze. None. Zip. Zero. This dry county thing is not a good thing for me. I need my wine, Calaveras County wines preferably. I can, however, drive 20 minutes to the next county to get my wine at, of all things, a drive through liquor store. Yes, in one county I cannot buy even a single drop of alcohol, but in the neighboring county I can drive right up to a liquor window order my booze of choice and be on my way without the silly inconvenience of actually getting out of my car. Go figure.

Well, with the particular county Wyatt and I have the dumb luck to be staying in being “dry”, we found that the resourceful locals make due. And boy do they ever make due.

Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country ~ By, Charity Maness

So you've decided to move to the country where that crazy thing we call friendship takes on a whole new meaning.

In the country we enjoy the same kind of things that you and your city friends might enjoy - just with a bit of a country twist.

A good friend in the city will gladly enjoy a quiet relaxing morning at the salon with you, partaking of a wonderfully decadent pedicure and a luxurious leg massage. A country friend will do the same but then will accompany you to the feed store, help you load a ton of hay in your pick up, follow you home, and then help you stack it in your barn. (All the while in sandals so as not to ruin their new pedicure.) 

A good friend in the city will be more than happy to head to the bar to shoot some pool with you after a hard day at the office. A country friend will also gladly, and deservedly, head to the bar to shoot some pool with you after a hard day at work and after helping you run two acres of barbed wire. (You have to buy though.) 

Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country ~ by, Charity Maness

So you’ve decided to move to the country, where lawn and yard décor take on a whole new meaning…

There are no pink plastic flamingos to be found out here. We country folk have a different way of decorating the outside of our humble abodes. Just to give you a hint, we have a real hard time getting rid of anything, and I literally mean anything. Things that city folk might consider junk, we might just consider lawn art.

I think we can all agree that the traditional old rusty windmill adds quite a bit of country charm to an old farmstead right? But a windmill in the front yard of my little two acre spread? I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking thats a bit of a stretch. Who knows, maybe Wyatt, yes, the same genius that moved me here to Tombstone, knows something I don’t. Just maybe he snuck out one night under the cover of darkness with his divining rod and struck a vein of liquid gold, in this land of scorching heat, better known as “water.” The result of his infinite wisdom is a strategically placed windmill of questionable proportions gracing my front lawn.

Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country ~ by, Charity Maness

So, you’ve decided to move to the country where ‘language’ is a loosely used term...

When first moving here, you will undoubtedly hear some terms that just don’t seem to make any sense at all. Or you may overhear a conversation or two that leaves you wondering just what kind of a town it is that you have moved to.

For instance, you could be enjoying a cup of coffee one fine morning at McCartys and overhear some of our local ranchers interesting conversation. It could sound something like this;

“Hey Steve, how are your girls today?”

“Oh, they’re doin’ all right. One of ems got a tit so swollen I’m afraid to even touch er.”

“Yeah, that happened to one of my girls a while back. I just packed a warm towel where she was most tender and she calmed down right away. She actually got a bit amorous.”

“Yeah, I tried that. I thought maybe I would get one of my younger girls to try to take to her to lessen the pain.”

“That might work. But girls can sure be stubborn when you try to introduce a new young un. Lord knows my girls are real stubborn when I bring a new one home.”

Now if you have spit out your coffee and are seriously thinking of putting your brand new home on the market because you think you have moved to a polygamist community, you couldn’t be further from the truth. Those ranchers loving refer to their beautiful well endowed bovines as their “girls.”