Big Country Living

Calling Britain a "big country" is like calling Lady Gaga self-conscious. However, as I took Abby for a walk on this cool, soon-to-be-spring evening, through farms and country lanes, lyrics came to mind (maybe because it came on while I was listening to my iPod?):

I'm not expecting to grow flowers in the desert,
But I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime..
And in a big country, dreams stay with you,
Like a lover's voice, fires the mountainside..
Stay alive..

Whatever happened to them? Oh yeah, tragedy. Okay, moving along...

I live in Ringwood, Hampshire and have enjoyed it since the day I moved here almost a year ago. Within a mile there is a highway (called a dual-carriageway), the New Forest, small lakes, shops, cafes, farms, good pubs, a growing circle of friends. What's more, it's just a 20 minute drive to Bournemouth. Taking Abby for a walk tonight reminded me how rural(ish) life really suits me! How so, you ask? Well for starters...

1. Local Architecture

I enjoy looking at all the different homes as I walk Abby. The area isn't that built up and houses do differ here from road to road. Mom and I used to enjoy looking at the lovely homes in Redondo Beach (I still maintain that how people light their homes is truly indicative of their mental state: recessed lighting = happy, fluorescent strip lighting = serial killer) and so it's only natural I would continue to enjoy regarding all the homes here.

As lovely as cottages are, with thatched roofs and all, I don't actually think I'd choose to live in one (if I had the freedom to choose a dream house, that is). For me, cottages can be so dark and cramped. Picturesque from the outside, a tad claustrophobic on the inside.

2. Doing the Shuffle

99.9% of the time I'm on my iPhone while walking (phone calls, audio books or music). Some of the areas I walk Abby are kind of secluded.  So I've been known to break out in dance (well known just to me, so does it still count, I wonder?). I do it suddenly and scare the begeezuz out of Abby but she soon gets used to it (and tries to stay out of the way of my awesome moves). How can you not when Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again" or Chubb Rock's "Treat'em Right" start playing? Tonight I was grooving to the Glee soundtrack (is it me or is the arrangement of Artie's rendition of "Dancing with Myself" pretty dang awesome?)

 Locals are friendly, too.

3. Name...that...House!

No matter what sized home, it seems that people in the country like to give their homes proper names. Just to be clear, you can name your house pretty much anything you want! Note: I don't think you should be allowed to call your home "Oak Cottage" when it's made of brick. I'm just saying). A name doesn't take the place of your actual address (satellite navigation doesn't care if you punch in "Countess Cottage, Ringwood") but yet, it seems to be the thing to do. So during my big, country walks, I get to brainstorm house names for myself! Since Valhalla (as in Val-holler!!!!!) is taken (see above pic), I'm considering Abigail-Tan Manor. The pic above is just a few of the name signs I saw just this evening alone! 

Abby is my constant companion, she's the reason I often go for walks but some days I think I benefit even more then she does. A few times a week I take her on off-leash walks out in the country and most of those wide open spaces are just 5-10 minutes in the car. Gone are the days of dog parks (with Starbucks in hand) of our life in Los Angeles, but if Abby could understand and communicate (Rich maintains she can), she'd say she loves living in the big, open country too. So this evening, with cup of tea in hand, I say 'thank you' to my big country and see you tomorrow on another walk!