I’m home after a few days of adventures with my Pittsburgh pal. She gives me the insider tour of her city and, this time, we also took a day trip over to historic Bedford, Pennsylvania.

This was my first real adventure of the year and it didn’t come a moment too soon. I was feeling restless, deprived, and yearning for something more interesting than my own four walls. I have a good life but it’s better when I step away occasionally to see what else the world has to offer.

We did a book crawl, ate at a historic tavern, and looked at art and historic buildings. We shopped, contemplated the sacrifices made by our veterans, and browsed a middle eastern food market near her home.

It is never lost on me how different her life is from mine because of where we live.

There are about three dozen independent bookstores in the Pittsburgh area. There are radio stations that play more than top forty country and pop music. I listened to some jazz radio while in the area and was sad to lose the station as I traveled away from the city. There are markets and restaurants that cater to ethnic cuisines and her very nice neighborhood of tree lined streets is filled with people who have come from afar. There are more jobs, more money, more educational opportunities, more museums, more of everything really.

The contrast between urban and rural is surprising sometimes.

Yet, where I live is beautiful. We have a shared sense of community that comes from everyone attending the same high school, shopping at the same grocery store, and being so small we tend to know each other.

Where I live in the country, there are no sidewalks or streetlights. There’s also no traffic unless you count school buses, farm equipment, and the occasional road construction.

I can hear a variety of birds and frogs in my yard and my closest neighbors are far enough away I don’t really hear them.

Quality of life is awfully good in many ways here but it’s also nice to leave and to have different experiences.

At one point, I stood before a mirror in the ladies room at Bedford Candy. My hair was a mess and I had the wild eyed look of someone who was so busy running around and looking at stuff that time didn’t matter.

It’s true, I spent almost the entire trip without any idea what day it was or what time it was. I was in my element and didn’t give a gosh darn what the clock said.

I have missed that version of myself. Planning and schedules have nearly crowded her out.

Yet, all good things must end. I’m home safe. The people in my life are thrilled to have me back. My little house panther couldn’t be happier. I keep catching him staring at me like he just wants to make sure I’m really here.

I am really here, a country mouse tucked away in my country house with a few stories to share and a mess to clean up. Not only do I need to unpack, there are groceries and fun purchases that still need to be put away today.

For now though, I can take my time, enjoy my little cat’s company, and savor the memories of experiences that helped me remember who I am.