Green Acres

Green Acres is the place to be.

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I am showing my age here today.

In the 1960s there was a show on CBS every Wednesday night at 8pm. Green Acres. You may remember it.

Starring Eddie Albert and Eva Gabor, it was the story about two New Yorkers who gave up the high powered living of Manhattan to live out in Hooterville.

I´m not being mean, that was the name of the town.

From Sunday morning until Monday night I had the chance to visit Green Acres — Argentine style.

Knowing the stress I´ve been under, Ale made arrangements with her cousin — a retired priest — to visit him and his mom (Ale´s aunt).

The town they live in is about an hour and a half south of Buenos Aires, so it´s out in the country away from the noise, the smog of buses and the squeal of taxi cab tires as they dodge and weave through traffic and pedestrians.

As the bus pulled to a stop at the end of the lane that would lead to paradise, I glanced at the small duffel bag and then at Ale. She nodded and asked me to carry it knowing that my self-image of macho manhood needed to be brought down a notch.

I shrugged as I slid my arm through the strap and slung the daisy covered canvas bag over my shoulder.

Holding the handrailing I casually swung off of the bus like I´ve done so many times in the states. Nudging the rocks gently with my foot I waited for Ale to step off the bus behind me. As I waited, I thought about all the places that I´ve gotten off public transportation in towns where I was unknown. Laramie, Denver, Dallas, Jackson Hole, Boise, Phoenix and hundreds more.

This time was similar – and it was different. My wife was with me – and it felt good.

Walking the hundred yards or so to the farm, I felt like I was back in Virginia. If you forget about the fact that there weren´t any mountains a person could think they were anywhere in the Shennadoah Valley between Winchester and Roanoke.

Turning left and walking through the gate, I saw a man walking towards us. Ale waved at him and whispered to me that it was Lewis.

I immediately felt like I was home.

If you could forget about the fact that there weren´t any mountains, a person could think they were somewhere between Winchester and Roanoke.

Green Acres. That´s the place to be.

Ale´s cousin, Lewis, has been kind and gracious by lending me his notebook computer to use for a few days until I can figure out how to replace the one I lost in the robbery.

I will be sharing more about this magical place and the wonderful people that live there in more posts — keep an eye out.

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