**You can take the girl out of the suburbs, but...**

I am finishing up the first day of the Memorial Day weekend munching a burger. Oh, you might say, bbq, party in the yard, typical holiday celebration, way to go, girl. Alas, no. Burger is not a burger but a Boca burger and not a grill in the back yard, but instead a George Foreman grill on the counter. No beer, just a Diet Cherry Coke. No party, just me and the canine.

And I don't mind a bit.

I spent the day in the yard, cut the grass, trimmed, tested the sprinkler system (there seem to be some renegade heads that are spewing water in inappropriate ways and directions), brushed the dog, and applied a classically suburban mixture of Scotts weed and feed to the yard, thus completing my own suburban contribution to the poisoning of the water table.

I never thought I would live in the burbs again. I left after high school and longed for a rural life. At least I have managed, with each move, to end up in a smaller community. But I ended up in the "Pleasant Valley Sunday" part of a small town, in an essentially plastic home, for two key reasons. Anything outside of town is WAY too expensive for my measly salary. The other reason is that, when it comes down to it, I am not a "handy" person. So knowing that I would be out in the boonies by myself once my son left for college, ended up not appealing to me as much. For example, while I have, for the record slept in barns with a range of farm mammals, I am not really comfortable dealing with the more wild selection of mountain mammals, such as... bears. I am not sure I could fix a well pump by myself. The notion of a septic system backing up is a little intimidating. Those little rural challenges that got me reconsiderin'.

Now put me in the burbs and I can do anything. I can cut the lawn with the best of them. I know small gardening, weeding techniques, and working flower beds.

Suburban queen... Who says you can't go home again....