Darling I love you but give me Park Avenue.

.My life is like Green Acres. As the theme tune says, 'hard living is the life for me'. What? How did this happen? It's certainly not true and might I say that I discovered dirt under my nails today and they were in sore need of a proper manicure.

My city sensibilities are just so offended by country dirt. I refuse to dress in the dowdy country style around here. Overalls are so un-flattering. One can still dress up a bit on the farm you know. I am sure the pigs will appreciate a touch of glamour in their little porky lives don't you? (wink)

From Marvellous Melbourne, to Trendy Tampa, how did this city slicker end up in living on top of a great big Mountain? In the words of the band Powderfinger, 'This life turned out nothing like I had planned'.

My dreams always involved living in the city, perhaps an exotic one like Milano or Venice, Vienna or even New York.

" I just adore a Penthouse view, darling I love you but give me Park Avenue"- Green Acres theme tune.

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Instead of the fast pace of city living, I am residing on 40 acres and spent much of today carrying rather heavy logs of wood from the shed onto the wood pile on the deck. Not only that dear reader, and please be seated before reading on in case you find yourself dizzy from the shock, this fancy Countess was out chopping big chunks of wood into small pieces for kindling. That's right, me with an axe in my hand, dangerous and disturbing, and probably a violation of my parole. (joking)

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So much for my dreams of being lady of Manor up here, it seems I am more like lady muck!

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The wood shed.

Even in the country one cannot be without a three strand pearl necklace.

While Eva Gabor was allergic to Hay in the charming comedy series, I am in fact allergic to manual labour of any form. Imagine my horror at realising today's event was not something to do on a fun country adventure caper, but something needed on a regular basis to stop me freezing to death in sub-zero temperatures.

Firewood on the porch, the fruits of my labour.

This country caper is turning out to be such a challenge. My mission is to survive and do all the farm things, but to still retain my sense of style and elan and to continue to wear my fabulous Carol Brodie jewels, even if it's just to impress the chooks.

Let me just say this, Countess Chichi simply will not allow herself to become Miss Mountain Woman. It's pearls and Rolex and Tod's shoes for me. Throw in some lovely fancy frocks as worn by the gorgeous Miss Eva and you get the picture.

Just the frock I need for feeding the chooks in.

Will I become Miss Mountain Country 2010 or will the city keep on slicking right off me? Who knows, who cares you say, cheeky! If any readers see pictures of me wearing cover-alls and chewing on a piece of wheat or hay or whatever it is bumpkins chew on, please leave me a stern message, bring me back from the brink of abandoning all fashion sense and fanciness.

If that fails and you see photographs of me either riding a tractor or shopping at Walmart in a wife beater T-shirt with a mullet hairdo, I beg you to give me a good hard slap.

Despite the intervention were I to end up dressing like this cowgirl all hope would be lost and I should be institutionalised for my own good. Nuff said.

At least I think it's a girl. Not really 100% sure. Yeeehaw

Photo from peopleofWalmart.com

"The Chores, the Stores" - Green Acres theme tune

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