Most of my memories come from dirt roads.

Country Living

Who here isn’t surprised? I was raised out in the country, my daddy, mama, sisters, and me. It was at the end of an old dirt road, for many years this would be my home. I remember all the grass and trees. To me, it was so beautiful! We lived not far from a little small town, where everything closed when the sun went down. This beautiful place that I called home,  my sister's and I would roam but not too far. We didn't worry about the dangers of roaming. 

Several families lived on that dirt road. There's a lot to be said for living at the end of a dirt road, a place no one goes unless they're looking for us, or lost. The mail carrier would turn around in our driveway. Our dogs run outside. They don’t bother anyone, they’re friendly. They chase cars that turn around. Specifically, strangers. 

The UPS guy accidentally ran over one of the smaller dog's and broke her leg. I saw it happen, and he didn't even check on her. There were no leash laws in rural Georgia, and the dogs stayed outside, just lay around until a stranger pulls up in our yard.  

The carrier never did acknowledge that he hit the dog or even ask about her. He threw a box on the porch a week after that happened. After that, the carrier would blow his horn, and one of us would go fetch the package. 

That's about all the excitement we would get during my childhood days. I go back there sometimes in my memories, to remember my life as a kid with my family! I am thankful for the life that we had, and our country home.