City Folk and Country Folk

Last weekend my family spent a day in Gaylord sitting around the table laughing and talking. Gaylord is one of those places that had a far greater influence on me than I ever had on it. Driving through town is to re-experience childhood moments: swimming lessons, friends, walks to school, first kiss, baseball games in the park, baseball games in a neighbors backyard. But one thing I forget is how remote 70 miles from the Twin Cities can be. Out of my sister's kitchen window we watched cars and trucks and motorcycles drive past. There were kids walking dogs, and parents walking children. But when a tractor drove through town we city girls looked at one another with raised eyebrows trying to suppress laughter, while the country girls continued their conversation, now sprinkled with the news of who needed some big yard work done and who owned the tractor.

Our drive back to The Cities was partially spent in a non-passing zone behind a combine. When I got home that evening, my country sister emailed me, "The driver of the tractor was Mitch," who was apparently helping someone in town with a large project. You can take the girl out of the country but you can't take the country off the roads.