Country Mouse City Mouse 6-14-10 |

Country Mouse City Mouse 6-14-10

Angelia McLean
Denver, Colo.

Over the years the English language has become a little inadequate. To describe something that is “big” sounds a little anticlimactic. It isn’t enough to use “big” as an adjective since it doesn’t begin to describe what we call “big” anymore since “big” is “small” nowadays and “small” isn’t even something we Americans consider a possibility.

Consider for the moment all the adjectives out there we need in our current vocabulary to get our point of “big” across: mega, extra large, super size, gigantic, humongous, jumbo, whopper, mondo, monster, oversize, and the recent fashionable lingo; ginormous. And wouldn’t a grande coffee be bigger than a vente? What is tall? (I’m that confused person in line who doesn’t drink coffee). What about the large auto names? Armada, Escalade (mountain climbing?), Suburban, H2 (must mean ‘Humongous Times Two’) and I am sure there’s a spelling error with the Expedition. They must have meant Explosion.

I often have imponderables like why does a person with a gigantic SUV need a roof top carrier? Or why does a bigwig of an executive mansion need u-store-it facilities?

Living in the city means there isn’t a whole lot of room for big things despite the fact that many around here try to do just that. The single guy up the street from us works from his home and has an extra large truck with a mega sized interior and an oversized bed. It’s possibly fully loaded too.

I had a Japanese pen pal back in the early ’80s and she came to visit for the first time in the USA. We met all 4 feet of her at the big airport in Chicago, surrounded by very tall and large American travelers, in our big, red four-door Oldsmobile 98, and stopped to eat a big deep-dish pizza. Asking her what she thought about being here, she responded, “Everything is so big!” For the first time I looked at my own little world through her eyes and realized her comment was monumental and it made a big impact on me.

Owning a horse means that moving him doesn’t necessarily mean riding him. So, you own a horse trailer to cart him about. In my small world of equine knowledge that means a single horse trailer. Imagine the equivalent of a Shriner’s little parade car only with our horse trailer. Parked next to the 5-horse slanted or the semi truck-pulled trailers complete with personal bidets and shower massagers, our trailer looks like a cartoon character. But, it works. And it works for my daughter to handle by herself with her horse, with a city dweller car.

During the Adams County Fair we have taken advantage of the camping experience opportunity on the fairgrounds. Once we’ve parked the pocket trailer for our pocket pony, we return with our Fleetwood pop-up camper that sleeps a whopper of six people, is complete with a mega hot water package and has a full day’s worth of electricity. Similar to one’s experience when the sun goes down in the Grand Canyon, so is it with a pop-up parked next to a fully stocked fifth wheel. Out comes the giga-watt satellite dish to pick up the latest American Idol results, out rolls their jumbo screened porch complete with deck and super size cup holders, and then the start of their generators that could power a suburb. It definitely makes for a study of contrasts.

I’m not a big person. It is often I’m lost towards the back in the elevator, squished in my plane seat by my two large seat companions and recently, denied the height requirements to intimidate my four teenagers. But, I love my small house in the big city with my tiny chicken flock and our large shade tree that hangs over our postage stamp of an urban garden. No matter where we live, city or country, they’re both big enough to include everyone, big or small.