As a country girl, my heels were the first thing to go. The soft earth devoured my designer oxford heels. Driving is a large part of my routine. I was surprised by how much my body suffered because of driving. My hips and lower back locked, my shoulders ached, and my anxiety stoked. Please explain how one can drive, smoke, talk on the phone, discipline a child all at once, and neglect to signal before changing lanes. Anyone?

As a country girl, my heels were the first thing to go. The soft earth devoured my designer oxford heels.

As a city girl, I rely on public transportation. Sidewalks, vendors, food trucks, and city parks make NYC a pedestrian’s dream. No gym required, just a pair of sneakers. As a country girl, I enjoy taking the family dogs for walks along with Beaver Damn. Or, weather permitting, I practice yoga on the back deck.

As a city girl, I appreciate exchanging pleasantries and information sharing. However, as a country girl, my language is dipped in beer batter, deep-fried, drizzled with honey, sprinkled with sugar, topped with a “bless your heart,” it’s part of the culture; anything less is distasteful and just plain rude.

This city is a romantic gem from when a time long passed. My social activities revolve around the local library and Starbucks as a country girl. In addition, I enjoyed the city’s scandalous past, a Prohibition-era speakeasy with unfinished wood floors, an original oak bar, and rust-stained mirrors. Here is where I enjoyed Salsa dancing in my free time.

I bought wine at an old-world spot that smelled mildew and cigars as a city girl. So now I make my own. I won’t win any medals, but a simple fermented fruit sugar concoction gives you a big buzz for pennies on the dollar.
Now, I am happy to smell the sweet aromas of honeysuckle and fresh-cut grass.