The Origins of an In-Door Girl

May 31, 2012

in Mother Nature's A B****, OldSchool

Unless you are such an outdoors girl that you don’t get regular wireless access under whatever rock you’ve been hiding camping out under, you probably know by now that I am not so much an outdoors girl. But ever since I had kids, I’ve wanted to become one.

Honestly, my occasional forays into the wilds of Maine and Ohio have left me wondering why. I mean, other than the spiders, what’s not to love about nature? Sure, there’s the dirt. And the mud. And the slugs that sneak up on you when you’re sitting in the grass, minding your own business, watching your sister-in-law build herself a shed. But, given enough bleach, that all washes off eventually.

And, just like your mother-in-law, even Mother Nature has her good points. Her sunny disposition is, after all, my only hope of ever being non-ghostly enough to pull off the orange that a bunch of old, white men decided was the primary school color for my Alma Mater back before sunscreen was invented.  I’m sure it looked good on them at the time – after all, anything goes with leather. You can’t actually pelt your kid with snowballs indoors. At least not without someone calling Child Protective Services . And let’s not forget, that, with a little help from Pillsbury and my grandmother, Mother Nature makes a darn good apple pie.

So, for the past four years, as I’ve sat in my air-conditioned apartments North of the Mason Dixon Line, I have struggled figure out why I hadn’t managed to retain my elementary school tomboy status past my first day of High School. Girl’s got to do something during those commercial breaks…

I was, in fact, a tomboy at one point in time. I used to catch frogs and Red Eft’s. I used to go camping. And hiking. And fishing. I even used to stand close enough to get hit by the occasional fish scale as my uncle cleaned the fish I’d caught for supper. I even used to scale the drain pipes to reach the 2foot ledge on the outside of the second floor of our apartment building, popping up in the windows to scare the bejeesus out of the elderly cleaning ladies as they passed by. If there’d been a tree anywhere on base, I’m sure I’d have climbed that too.

Flash forward 4 years, and suddenly I’m a post-debutante and future sorority girl.

And while I’ll be the first to admit that I spent most of those 5years with my nose buried in a book, I still couldn’t remember when, exactly, I stopped doing all that reading outdoors.

At least, not until last week.

When we crossed the Mason Dixon line, and headed back Down South. Back to the land of Krispy Kreme, the Confederacy, and my old High School, i.e. the land of those lost 4 years.

And as I opened the car door, eager to get the Littles out of their carseats long enough to let them air dry, It hit me. Like an old man’s sweaty electric blanket.

Summer. Down South.

I.E. The origins of my love affair with in-door plumbing, in-door lighting, and in-door air conditioning.

Comments on this entry are closed.

Previous post:

Next post: