I've been living in Oklahoma City for nearly two years. The casa I attempt to call home is within a few minutes walk of two Starbucks, five grocery stores and three gas stations. Each morning I rise to the sound of cars passing my urban casa, an ambulance from the hospital nearby and the occasional neighbor dog barking at a squirrel. Fortunately, all the sounds mesh into a comfortable blend of white noise.
I love living in the city. Well, love may not be the appropriate word, I manage living within the boundaries of city lights. Friends within a minute or two drive, events every night of the week and a plethora of food-coma inducing dining venues are within my finger tips.
With that said.
I love trading in my wedges (which I cannot get enough of) for a different type of kicks. Home, past the black top on rural route 3, is my escape from the city life.
Spending the day with my dad and sister loading up a few calves.
Laughing hysterically at Trigger who things he's a cowboy. Especially when my dad thinks Tori and I are just goofing off. Which, obviously, we were.
Riding my main man, Max.
Most of all, I love consoling my wanna-be-farm dog, who just doesn't understand why she doesn't get to help.
For now, I have the best of both worlds.
For now, I can live with it.