For last time, I live in country, not in sticks. And I am relaxed, not a hick.

Ever since we moved to country, I get feeling you city-folk are confused. So here is a primer on what it means to be living in country.

When you walk three blocks from your house in city, you will be in another neighborhood...and possibly lost. We'll be approaching our next-door neighbor's front porch.

The neighbors are no trouble at all. Sure they play hard rock heavy metal blow-your-brains out music all evening...but birds and crickets drown out racket.

Our neighbor across road has a sign that stays lit up all night: Bert's Auto Repair. He no longer does auto repair, but he doesn't do sign removal either. See? We have a downtown, too.

We don't need streetlights. We already have stars, thank you very much. What do you mean, "What are stars?"

You have gangs in city. Every now and then, somebody loses an ear, a few fingers or a loved one. Ha! We have gangs, too. Our gangs eat field mice. Bet your gangs won't do that for you.

Don't be shocked if you see a free-range skunk waddling across our front lawn on way over there. We might not have major league baseball, but who says we can't have a mascot? And our theatre nights don't cost us much. Most of crickets and lightening bugs play for free.

Sure, I'll mow lawn. Remind me next month.

By way, it's called a septic tank, not a skeptic tank. And yes, Irma Bombeck was right. And so are weeds.

Every Monday morning I go for a hike. I tie up my laces. I put on my cap. And I grab hold of two heavy bags. Then I walk. And walk. And walk. And just when I feel like I can carry bags no farther, I reach end of driveway. Yes, Monday is garbage day.

Are you a little competitive? Would you consider yourself a RAGING MANIAC when it comes to a good competition? Welcome to Competitors Anonymous.

You are competitive if you compete as you drive on freeway--you know, you pick a car in front of you and pretend it is Indy 500. You are competitive if you believe that rule in driving is simply to catch up to car in front of you!

You know you are a raging maniac when you find yourself trying to take down your eight-year old in a game of GUESSTURES. We have family game night at my house once a week and my husband has actually banned me from playing for a month because of what he called, EXCESSIVE CELEBRATION.

Okay so maybe I shouldn't have pushed her so hard when my team got word, "HUDDLE!" I get a little out of control when I play games. But it's all in fun, right?

They say men are typically more competitive than women, but I think we just compete differently.

Last weekend I entered a Tae Kwon Do sparring competition--well, a friend of mine had signed up and when she became ill, she asked if I would take her spot so she wouldn't lose registration money. What's a friend to do? I couldn't see her lose forty dollars!

I thought, “How hard could this be?” I had been taking lessons for a couple years and enjoyed exercise in sparring matches. It would be fun!

WELL...no one told me that they are out for blood in these competitions!

As I sat stretching before my match I watched this young “man boy,” maybe eighteen or twenty, throwing punches and kicking to warm up and he looked MAD! He looked over to his opponent and said under his breath, "Prepare to die!"

DIE? What was he talking like this for...it's just a friendly game right? Wasn't this all about exercise and FUN? I wanted to go out there and spank him or at least put him in time out for poor sportsmanship, but thought they might throw me out.

I leaned over to a woman sitting next to me and whispered, "Who is he? Inigo Montoya from Princess Bride? Here to avenge his father's death? My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father. Prepare to die!" She started laughing and said she loved that movie. We were like old Siskel and Ebert duo. Chatting about movies.