Orbiting the Edges

It's sort of strange, not to be the "hub" of my family anymore.  So many years I was and now--just on the fringe.

My Daddy was the center of the family for a very long time.  The man never visited anyone.  If you wanted to see him, you drove out to his house for a visit.  Better not ever miss a Christmas Eve at his house (of course it HAD to be at his house) or he would not be too subtle about how you ruined Christmas Eve because your "absence was certainly noticed."

My parents were raised with quite a bit of guilt and so was I.  I would never disobey my Daddy--even when I was 70 years old!  I made sure, even when I lived 50+ miles away, that I got down to visit him every month.  The couple of days he was in hospital and then the four days he was in Hospice, we traveled up to sit all day in his room--80 mile round trip.  Even though the last three days, he was not aware of anything, we were still there because...well, because we were supposed to be there.

At his visitation and funeral, we were there all day, dressed in our best dresses, the men with shirt and tie, because...well that is just the way it is done.  It would have been a disgrace to him and all our ancestor's if we had not.

Now here I am.  The eldest one in the family.  The Grand Dame (yeah, right) the Matriarch (sure).  Not a single one of my children come to visit monthly--rarely call.  They have not made a trip (12 miles) to come see Mom's Christmas tree or decorations.  Pam came yesterday only because I told her that  while she was in this area, checking on Jen's house and feeding the pets, would she please stop over so I could give her the food.

How come my kids don't feel one teeny, tiny bit of guilt?  Because I raised them not to be.  Because I raised them to be independent and....apparently I did too good a job!!

So on Christmas Eve, there I will sit.  Will there be grandchildren gathered on the floor around my knee to hear my sage advice?  HAH!  The event will last four hours, if we are lucky, than some will run off to Mass and I will have to leave because I can't drive after dark.

I am no longer the hub--I usually feel more like a "nub" just sticking out a bit on the fringe of all the family activities.  Sort of quietly orbiting out there on the edges.
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I posted this on Face Book this morning for, "Throw Back Thursday."

"Early December 1969, Daddy asked Mother what she wanted for Christmas.  She sang, “A partridge in a pear tree.”  A week later, as Daddy was harvesting the last of the corn, he found a dead, frozen partridge laying in a corn row.  He put it in a box and stored it out in the shed to keep it frozen.  He came down to my house, cut a branch off the pear tree and wired the partridge onto it.  On Christmas Eve, Daddy presented the nicely wrapped box to Mother.  When she opened it, she hooted and laughed and said, “Next year I’m asking for ‘five golden rings’ ”.  That’s the way our parents were.  Always kidding and fooling around.  Gag gifts every year.  Much laughter in our home, all the time."

My Daddy was bald at a very young age.  The result of a dandruff treatment he had used--killed all the hair follicles on the top of his head.  He hated being bald!  The year before this pix of Mother, she cut my hair for me in early December.  

"Gosh your hair grows fast. Look at all that hair on the floor!" she said.  Then, "Hm-mm, I have an idea."

She took an old nylon stocking.  Cut off the thigh part and sewed a seam across the top opening.  Then she took my cut-off hair and glued it onto the "skull cap" stocking.  On Christmas Eve, Daddy opened his present and there was his wig.  So funny--there he sat with a band of black hair around the back of his lower head and a blonde wig, covering his bald spot.

My parents were so goofy.  They were always joking and laughing.  They were so sappy in love--like they were in their own little kissy, huggie world and I was just sort of orbiting around the edge.

She looks so healthy in this photo, but she was dead within three months, at age 53.  The day she died, the laughter went out of our family.
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Today I went to our Class Mates monthly luncheon--or as I like to think of it, the meeting of the Old Broads.  I drove up to Byron and parked my car in the church parking lot and met Bethie and she drove on up to Owosso--at least a 40 mile trip for both of us--and it sure was nice to ride along together and chat.

We ate at a new restaurant.  An Italian place, but they didn't have Antipasto salad.  A couple of the girls got pizza and it looked real good.  Everyone liked the food--mine was terrible.  I got Nachos and there may have been 1/4 cup of beef on them and perhaps as much melted cheese and tasteless.  I thought the lunch prices were pricey, but a friend picked up my tab, so............

Then we always try and figure out where we are going to meet next month and no one can decide, or rather, we all try and let someone make the decision for us.  Today, I mentioned going back to a place sort of the middle of where we all live and where I know, I can get a really great plate of Nachos or a huge tasty Antipasto salad and when I said that--one of the girls said, "Oh No!  They changed their menu and I hate it there."

Okay--except, this woman is NOT even one of our classmates!  She is our friend's sister and is 7 years younger than us and personally?  I don't see how she even gets a say in where we eat!!!  So there.

Well anyway, "they" are going to figure out where to go and let the rest of us know.  Maybe I'll go, or maybe I won't.  Like Beth said, "Maybe we will just figure, I'm bored with you women and we won't go until spring."

I feel the same way.  I would much rather get together every 3 months--even every other month would be okay.  That's why I don't go every month.  Nothing new because none of us have very exciting lives and if perchance, you had something interesting to say, the one who talks too much wouldn't shut up or would change the subject in the middle of your interesting news!

The more I go to these lunches, the more I realize why most of them weren't in the group of friends (6) that I ran around with in high school. 

Anyway, today was nice.  Some of the friends are getting bald.  Some are getting mentally weird.  Some are a tad deaf and some talk way too loud and too much.  Some are just as steady and quiet as they have always been.  All of us are old--those tell-tale signs of droopy eyelids and that deepening crease from nose around mouth to chin.

Most of us hate getting old, but we all seem to be pretty healthy so, we may be getting together until we are in our 90's.  Of course, you never know.  One day you are here and the next day...you aren't.

  The one in the back row, far right is the younger sister.  She isn't even 70 yet--looks as old as us, doesn't she?  

By the Way--I am NOT standing on a stool.  

More Nutcracker Photos

Dolls dancing at the Christmas party

No expression as she is still a doll                     

Mice trying to chew on the dolls

 THEN--the dolls come alive (in Clara's dream) and dance before Clara and the Prince!

My Maddie is a living doll for sure!

Busy

To tell the truth, I am getting real sick of 40+ degree temperatures, no sun and rain all day today.  Fog every morning.  I used to suffer from Seasonal Affected Disorder--February was by far the worst month of the year for me.  I don't anymore--I don't know how I got over it, but I still use that excuse to sit under my Ott floor lamp with the full spectrum light bulb and do my cross stitch.  HAH!  That lamp is the best thing I ever bought for myself.  I have had it 6 years and never replaced the bulb and use it everyday, several hours a day.  It is the best for close handwork and for reading.

I did not have that luxury today.  I had to set the alarm to get up at the crack-of-dawn (8:30), because today was my appointment at the Food Pantry.  Of course, I could not find a close-by parking space, so I had to walk in the chilly, 40 degree rain and of course, I didn't have on my winter coat, just my fleece jacket.

Oh my!  What a treat today.  They had all sorts of frozen meat. I got 2# ground SIRLOIN to make Chili and they had turkeys!!  Pammie couldn't afford didn't cook her usual Thanksgiving turkey, so I grabbed one for her--she will share the after product and stuffing with me :-)  We are only allowed 2 meats.  

Than I found more cans of diced tomatoes to replenish the ones I used for the boys spaghetti sauce, and got a couple of bundles of spaghetti, some cans of corn and green beans and kidney beans (for the Chili) and--even a bag of lettuce that wasn't too old and slimy and a large can of chicken to put in the not quite slimy lettuce--had that for supper.  

Then a jug of detergent and a 4-pack of extra thin bathroom tissue (that awful kind they use in public restrooms).  Also a jar of Peanut Butter and Grape Jelly--we are allowed one of each per month.  I do not eat much Peanut Butter and Jelly, but Pammie does.  The County Pammie lives in does not have a Food Pantry and so I share, sometimes, with her, and a dozen eggs which I will share half with Pam or Merle and Pearl.

Then I drove up and ran inside the Dollar Tree and got a string of 50 clear Christmas lights and a bag of pine scented potpourri.  It seems all the stores now want to sell only those LED Christmas lights and I don't like them--way too harsh for me.

I used to put a mirror on top of our spinet piano, run a string of lights kind of in a scalloped pattern down the center and some greenery and put my crystal ware on the mirror.  It was beautiful when it was lit at night.  Now I have no piano or mirror and no space, so I just put the lights and the potpourri in my big glass container, set it on my clear glass plate and added what I had for crystal. Tomorrow I will put a nice, white damask napkin under the glass, I think it will look better than the table top.

It lights up that area and the lights warm the pine potpourri to make the room smell nice.  Not too strong.

Had a small lunch and watched my Soap and then got busy the rest of the afternoon doing some computer work for my friend, Chris.  

I decided to make a batch of the Chex Mix snack.  I haven't made it in a couple of years.  One time, I made it in the microwave, but didn't like the way it turned out.  So back to the original way of making it in a low oven and stirring it every 15 minutes.  Boy--it is delish with the garlic and onion powder and seasoned salt.  

Got all my bills paid for the month and managed to get 3 ten dollar bills to put in with the little kids ornaments--I'll put a fiver in Evan's, he won't know the difference, just be thrilled with "WOW.. Money!"

Susan called, she and Chuck were down by Ann Arbor, stuck in traffic on the expressway and wanted to know if they could stop in.  

"YES!!"

They arrived about 45 minutes later--should have only taken them 20, but...............my first company to see my decorations and tree.  Susan noticed the Chex Mix and grabbed a handful.  Chuck just sat in the rocker and tried to stay awake.

The had driven 12 hours from Binghamton, New York where they had spent a week with his family and friends and Christmas festivities.  Normally the trip takes about 10 hours, but rain/fog and traffic weren't too good today.  On the way out, they encountered the snow storm that NY had last week and the trip took them 11 hours.  The Binghamton area had 7 inches of snow when they got there.

When they arrived here, I stepped out on the porch and said, "Welcome to the Tropics."

Glad they are home safe and now we can concentrate on Christmas Eve up at The Farm.

So, it was a busy day.  Not hectic busy, just nice and steady busy.

It's A Wonderful Life.....most of the time

Yesterday, I was standing in the kitchen, waiting for the microwave to finish warming my lunch, looking out the kitchen window and tears started sliding down my face.  

For no reason.

I just had a momentary flicker of a memory of Fred making Christmas cut-out cookies and just started crying.

This is a real difficult time of year for widows.  For anyone who had a close family member die, parent, child, sibling.  The memories of happy past Christmas' just flick into our mind, without notice and bring on the tears.

...and we just keep on smiling because, we don't want to spoil Christmas for those around us.
<sigh>
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Pammie called me last night.  We talked for about an hour.  Jen's family are off on a Disney Cruise.  They decided to go this week instead of next, as it was cheaper and they hoped to miss the Christmas break college kids on board.

We are hoping that Jennifer and the kids might come to our Christmas Eve day family get together.  I think Eric has to work that day anyway, so perhaps she might come.  I know my sister, her son's family and my son would love to see Jen and, if they move to New Jersey, it will probably be our last Christmas Eve with all of us together.

Pammie told me that now, it isn't really Jennifer.  It is more Eric.  Apparently he is the one holding the grudge and, it isn't just about me.  I guess he thinks or has assumed that other family members have said something bad about him.  This is pure nonsense as we ALL love Eric.

Pam said, "I don't understand it, Momma.  I'm not like that...none of us in the family are like that.  If we get our feelings hurt by someone, we tell them and then we forget about it.  Or...we don't tell them and still get over it in a couple of days and forget about it."

"I know, Honey.  I don't get it either.  We have probably been hurt by every single person in our family.  Things they have said to us or about us and it hurts for a few days and then...we just give it up.  We are family.  You don't hold grudges or anger against family members."

So Pammie is going to tell Jen when we meet and tell her that we'd all like to see her and the kids and it won't be any different than when she came to Maddie's open house.

Of course, Pam mentioned that if Eric forbid Jen from coming, she wouldn't be able too because that would cause strife between them.  I understand that and we don't want that to happen.

I'm STILL going to send him a birthday card on the 22nd and I am still going to sign it with love--just like I have always done!

Pammie also told me something that made me smile!  Years ago, I got large heavy papier mache boxes for the kids.  I decorated them and put a wooden initial of their first name on the top.  It is to store their Christmas ornaments in--I did the same for Karen's kids.  I get the kids some sort of personal and personalized ornament every year.  This year I got Andrew one about LaCrosse which he took up this year.  I got Elise an absolutely beautiful silver flute, because she is playing that in the band, Alex got one with a boy on a dirt bike, because he is into that and I got Evan one painted with Curious George on it.  They all have their names on them, except for Elise's flute.

Pammie said that when they put up their Christmas tree, the kids get their boxes and unwrap their ornaments from me and put them on the tree first.  Then they don't seem to want to decorate the tree anymore.

That means, they will always have those ornaments and when they open the storage boxes, they will remember this Mimi!!
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I had a rough night last night.  Probably because of the unresolved Eric & Jen issue and thinking about Fred.  If he had still been alive, he would have had the mess straightened out in a couple of weeks.  Jen and Eric both admired him and took his counsel.  Of course, if Fred had still been alive, I probably wouldn't have been "out of it" or still in the "brain fog" that caused me to do something so stupid.

I was worn out when I finally woke up at 9:00.  The bed covers were all torn up and twisted and the cats were nowhere to be seen--apparently there was yelling and kicking and it scared them.

The weather has been nice and mild.  I should have gone out for a walk, but I did laundry, worked all morning on my friend, Chris' website and stuff and than, this afternoon, got involved in watching a couple of Turner Classic Movies, which also made me cry.  

I just pray I get my Christmas miracle and Jen and the kids show up at my sister's on Christmas Eve afternoon.
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My precious boy does like to have a rock-a-bye

on Momma's lap. 

Two Weeks Until................

Even after all these years of blogging, I am still finding new (to me) and wonderful blogs to read.  I have to add them to my "list" so that when they post something new, it appears on top to let me know.  The "Blogs I Follow" list on the right side-bar of this page is becoming ridiculously long, LOL.

I noticed also that quite a few of my blogger friends now require us to put in the number when we comment.  Not a problem, if I can see the number to put it in the box, LOL.  If you don't put the correct number in, you have to put in a new one and.............it gets annoying.  If  you ever see that "type in number" thingie pop up under comments on my page, please let me know.  I will go in and kill it!

The days have been busy.  Satisfyingly busy--not hectic busy.  I have mailed my Christmas cards and a Christmas package.  I have only Jennifer and my youngest grandbabes cards to mail, which I will do tomorrow.  Reason being--I want the kids to get their cards while Pammie is there baby sitting on Monday, so she can read the Curious George one to Evan and to report to me what the kids thought of their personalized "made just for you" cards.

I am quite troubled about Pearl.  I had to run up town to get a prescription filled and decided, after three years of people telling me to, buy a jug of Red Tart Cherry Juice Concentrate and start drinking it daily.  Suppose to be good for arthritis, insomnia, gout.  Now, Pearl has gout just terrible and arthritis.  So I got her a jug too--this stuff is pricey!

I stopped in at their place on the way home, gave her the stuff, along with the research I had done on it and asked her to please try it.  To use the whole bottle, a bit each day--2tsp. in a glass of water, or soda water--and not judge it until she had finished the whole bottle--probably a month from now.

She takes massive doses of Aleve--which can tear up your tummy--and now informed me that she is having a bleeding problem!

She isn't quite sure what area it's coming from (?).  It could be her bowels or her urethra or her vagina.  How can you not know?  She has made an appointment with a gynecologist--thank goodness.

Merle came down, when I left, and helped me carry in some heavy groceries and...we talked a little bit.

"Thanks for giving her that juice.  I'll make sure she drinks some every day."

"I hope it helps.  She is in so much pain...I can't stand to see her like that."

"Ayup.  She can hardly walk and she won't even try.  She just sits in that chair all day and won't even go to the store.  I gotta go and get groceries now."

"I know.  She says it hurts to walk and I tell her she has to walk.  The less she walks the more it is going to hurt and she has to start out and then increase a couple of steps everyday."

"I worry that by next spring she won't be able to walk at all.  She is going to end up in a wheel chair like our friend Reba."

"Would she consider going to physical therapy this winter?"

"That's what the doctor told her, but she doesn't want to because it will hurt."

"I know Merle, but after a few sessions, she will be able to move better and it won't hurt as much."

"I know."

"Is that why she said she didn't like my doctor.  Is he getting tough with her?"

"Yeah.  Now she wants to find a new doctor, plus she's gaining weight again."
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I got to thinking about Pearl last night when I was trying to fall asleep.  Bleeding?  It could be something very simple.

A kidney/bladder infection or  Bladder cancer.
An ulcer from all the Aleve and blood in her stool or  Bowel cancer.
Ovarian or uterine cancer.  At our age, you don't bleed from your vagina for no reason!

GEEZ LOUISE!!
======================
I don't have that many gifts to wrap.  Why is it taking so long for me to get in the mood to get the job done?

My winter time friends--

Ginger

Smokey

This & That

Another photo of Madeleine--I think her Dad may have taken this one while he was working backstage.  She had to stay on pointe, in that pose, until it was her turn to dance.

Putting Christmas Cards in envelopes today.  I want to mail them Saturday.  Here is the one I made for Evan--my youngest GrandBoy.

Sorry, it was a bit crooked when I scanned it.
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The way Dar acted on our "adventure" Monday, had me upset the rest of Monday and all day yesterday.  I was trying to figure out why she is as she is.

Self-absorbed.  Yes
Distracted.  Yes
Doesn't listen.  Yes

I realized last night that relating with her is not a good thing for my mental health!!  Not when she affects me for an entire night and day, thinking about her.

I was doing pretty well today--getting my Christmas cards ready to mail, getting presents ready to wrap.

She came in the door around 5:00 and I could feel myself tense up and I felt a real snotty attitude come into my mind, but...I tried not to let it show.

I was putting together a casserole for supper and so I said, "Sit down and talk while I get this in the oven."

Trying to pay attention to the recipe I did hear her say, "Well, I went to the doctor today and to the surgeon and I got my release papers."

I turned..."You got your papers!?"

"Yup.  I go back to work tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow?"

"Yup.  I just wanted to come over and tell you because you've been here for me through this whole horrible ordeal and you have helped me so much.  Just your calm reasoning has helped my mental stability so much.  I won't be over very much from now on...you know how it is when I work.  I have no idea what my hours are going to be, but I am going to work everyday from now until the end of the year, as many hours as they will give me."
<Thank you, Lord.>

I popped the casserole in the oven and sat down in my chair.  Suddenly my heart felt lighter and I could smile and be nice.

She told me that "they"  have come to the conclusion that she DOES NOT have a hernia, that it is a cyst and she will have to go back and get it drained again. But she can go back to working full time.

Off she went at about quarter to six.

YAY--free.  I am free.  Praise God Almighty, I am Free at Last!

A Glutton For Punishment

What can I say?  Apparently I think that doing the same thing over and over, hoping for a different out come, will work.  Isn't that the definition of insanity.  Wait--let me Google that.

Yep--found it.


I asked Darlene to go with me to the Nutcracker Ballet performance Sunday.  She seemed excited and it wasn't too bad.  She talked continually all the way over--only a 20 minute drive and was fairly quiet and calm during the program.

We had wonderful seats!  3rd row, center stage.  In fact, we were so close that when the professional ballet dancers came out to dance The Sugar Plum Fairy, I could see the woman's panty liner sticking out just a teeny bit under her tutu!

Anyway, Karen was there and her son Marcus..my son-in-law was backstage working the fog and snow machine and changing the scenery and working the curtains.

Madeleine was one of the dolls this year.  The Spanish Dancer doll and when she did her solo dance, she was wonderful.  She has such personality and stage presence.  She didn't just dance the role, but she put in flirtatious little moves of her head, behind her black lace fan.  There was a report later that she was the best Spanish Dancer Doll they have ever had.

This makes the 10 year in a row I have seen the Nutcracker.  She started out as a little mouse and is now dancing with the more professional girls.  She started ballet when he was almost 4--so darling in her little white tights and shoes and pink tutu.

Dar was very impressed with Karen and the family, as she should have been, in my humble opinion.  We stopped on the way home and got Chinese for supper.  It wasn't too bad a time, but she does wear me out with her continually ramblings.

This morning, I was going up to The Farm again--my sister made a porch decoration out of our old sled and I got some vintage ice skates on e-bay for 20 bucks for her to hang on the sled.

Just as I was about to leave, Dar came in.  She was all in an emotional melt down AGAIN--you know how she gets.  It looked like it was going to be a long morning and I had to be up at The Farm by 10:00, so I said, "Dar, do you want to ride up with me?"

"Oh yes!  I would like to see where you were raised and meet your sister and it would help me relax."

Of course, before we got too far, we had to stop so she could her "Super, Decaf, Skinny, Hot, Mocha, With Whipped Cream" Bigby coffee.  I continued to drive as she sipped the coffee.

You've seen the movie "When Harry Met Sally"?  Well, for the next mile, she acted like Sally in the restaurant scene!  I KID YOU NOT!!

Then she started talking and, for the next 25 minutes, she told me all about her stay in the mental ward and her near suicide and how "All three of my psychiatrist's came to my house to talk me through it!"
<really>

I had a headache by the time I got near The Farm and I slowed down to show her the home where I raised my kids (where Pammie lives) and the farm up on the corner where I was born (where Mark) lives and then turned left to go to Susan's.  I explained it all to her and as we drove in Susan's driveway, I explained where the addition started on the old house and what was the original house.

My poor sister!  She gave Dar a tour of the house and Dar was busy blathering about her grandmother's house in Detroit.  Then she'd asked Susan a question and Susan would answer.  But, I could tell, Dar wasn't listening, she was too busy thinking in her head of what SHE wanted to say.

Twice she asked Susan, "Now, this is all the original house?"

Susan said, "No.  We added this part on."

"Now, you said this was your parent's home--where you and Judy grew up?"

"No.  That is the farm up on the corner."

"Oh yes, where Pam lives now."

"No.  Mark."

"Where do you work, Sue."
<my sister hates to be called Sue.>

"I'm retired.  When we lived in New York, I worked for the county agency for spousal, child and elder abuse."

Then of course, Dar had to tell Susan her sad tale of being abuse as a child AND a wife AND now, by her children.

I was getting very twitchy, so I got her out of there.  She still wanted to see our little town of Byron.  First, I made her stand for a moment by the car and I said, "Take a deep breathe and...just listen."

"Oh...gosh....all I hear is the breeze.  It's awfully quiet isn't it?"

"Yes.  Isn't it lovely."

and we got in the car.

"I'd be scared to live out here," she said.

"What?"

"I'd be scared to live way out here with no close neighbors.  What is someone broke in and robbed you?"

"And, who would do that?  You know everyone around for miles--your neighbor's.  They wouldn't break in."

"What if................."

"You would be safer out here than anywhere you've ever lived.  What do you think....some robber is going to drive an hour out from Flint or Lansing and just happen to pick your house to rob?"

"What if your husband beat you up.  There would be no one to hear your screams and help you."

"Dar...my second husband beat me up weekly and tried to kill me.  We lived in a town house with neighbors on each side.  That didn't stop him and oh...by the way...no one called 911 to help me!"
<oh, I was getting beyond irritated.>

So I drove over to the cemetery to show her where most of my family is buried and I told her to get out of the car and walk over to our family plot.  I walk along and show her the markers and my marker and then on the way back to the car, she stops and looks down and said, "This is one on your family plot?"

"Of course.  Why?"

"Well, who is Frederick?"
<oh my good Lord...I am just going to trip her and bash her head on the ground!>

"You don't know whose marker this is?"

"No.  It isn't the same last name as yours."

"You don't know anyone named Fredrick who died on new year's day in 2012?"

She looked at me, sort of confused....

"It's Fred!"

"I didn't know his name was Fredrick."

Back in the car...I no longer have any desire to show her my childhood hometown or anything other than get this idiot home!

I had no choice by to drive through Byron to get home and as I got into town she said, "Now I want to see your school and your church."

So I continued on down the block to show her.

She gave each a cursory glance and I also pointed out the Baptist church just up the street.  Then I drove half a block and as we started to pass by the Baptist church she said, "Oh my Gawd.  Is that some one's home?"

"No.  That's the Baptist church I pointed out three minutes ago."

"Oh."

Finally, back on the road headed south toward home and she started in telling me about when she was "held captive" (her words), by the black man she lived with for twenty years--all the way home!  I think I must have broken every speed limit in the county to get her home and rid of her!
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I was exhausted!  I grabbed a snack, watched my soap, kicked back my recliner and woke up two hours later!!

She doesn't understand why I would want to live out in the country where it is "so quiet and spooky and probably really dark at night."  She doesn't understand why my friends that I met the first day of Kindergarten feel like family to me.  She doesn't understand why anyone who grew up "there" would want to get married and still live there the "entire rest of your life?"

Perhaps, if she was really interested and had paid a bit more attention today, she might have figured it out?

She's a city girl.  She can't possibly understand why I loved living "way out" in the country away from "all the activity" anymore than I would understand why she would want to live in a dirty, noisy, creepy, scary city.