On My Sis

If my sis and I were characters in an Aesop's Fable (which we thankfully are not) we would be in "The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse".  As the town mouse, I would be boastful about the splendors of the city while she, the country mouse, would devote her life to a place bucolic.  

For one, I live in the most densely populated area in Los Angeles and my sister lives in a remote part of New Hampshire that I always confuse with Maine.

My sister's life in the country is the exact opposite of the life I have found for myself in the city. My sister wakes up (most likely to the sound of a rooster crowing) so that she can feed her goats organic something-something (whatever goats eat?. . . . sweaters?) before the sun comes up.  I wake to the sound of a bus announcing the name of its route ("Line 204 Vermont and Sunset") to then run around some blocks of the city grid before shoving off to urban design class where I learn about development.  

I depend on the grocery store for food, retailers for clothes, the Metro/my scooter/cars for mobility, and spending money to make money while my sister lives in true subsistence.  

Unlike the mice in the fable, we don't really bicker about our differences, but use them to make our relationship more interesting.  I don't, by any means, reject her lifestyle.  It does, after all, include this little guy: 

Tiny Hill Farm