Country living

Tonight Eli and I were discussing life in the country, of which we are both desperately envious. 
She had just attended her primary school reunion in the weekend. 
Her reflections on her classmates still living in the countryside:
"They're so...different!  They talk funny!  They're so friendly!  They wear their hair in big shiny bun things!"
Sometimes I wonder why we spend so much time shooting telescopes into other galaxies and searching for life in outer space.  There's a whole undiscovered world right here, in the countryside! 

I have friends who live in the country.  Will and Steffen (I can't even write their names without sighing with jealousy).  They bought a house out there, and are living the bucolic dream; chickens, vege garden, fresh air, pickles and preserves, a pub down the road where everybody knows your name and they're always glad you came...
Every time I go out to visit them I get major house/lifestyle/general-life-envy. 

So tonight when I saw Will, on one of his forays into the big smoke (for supplies, probably), I asked eagerly for one of his country-living-anecdotes.  I knew it would drive me wild with jealousy, but I just couldn't help myself...