Have you even been told the old saying "you never know what you had until its gone"?
Driving up the Eastern Bush Rd to see my Nana and Pops on Saturday made me think of that exact saying.
Growing up as kids my brother and I would travel to Blackmount to see our grandparents in the Monowai Village.
As I got older and grew more of a social life, I forgot about these trips and the moments I missed and took for granted.
Looking out across the Wairaki Valley I had truly forgot what I was missing out on.
The days we'd make the drive seemed to last for hours, but I guess that was just a part of growing up in the country.
There was no walking 15 minutes to get to your mates place, it was 15 minutes in the car.
So there would be brawls with my brother or cousin, crying and even the incident of chewing gum being stuck all through my hair.
We were just so excited to get there.We'd get to the village and opportunities would be endless.
Although there was nothing there besides a park the opportunities seemed endless.
I remember my Pop having this old school motorbike that he'd plonk us on the front off, and we'd hoon off down the road at the speed of light.
It was probably more like 50kmh but to us it was insane.
Those were the joys of having free space every where and having a Pop who still believed he was a teenager at age 80.
I walked out of their place carrying an old Websters dictionary.What a shamble.
He believes in that Gold Mining will take over the world again, and I love him to pieces for it.
Poor Nana just sits their and shakes her head.
He loves to talk and as a kid I couldn't wait to run away.
Now I realise the time is precious.
As we grow up we forget the simple things and the time and freedom we had as kids.
Now-a-days I struggle to find time to head out on the hills for a horse ride, or give my aunty and uncle a hand on the farm when they need one.
Has anyone else ever felt like they don't have enough time?
Being a country kid the freedom is endless and I would not have wished to have grown up any other way.
Some times when I was younger I used to think "why can't we live in Winton, or even Nightcaps?"
Now I think how lucky I am to have grown up the way I did, with the people I did.
Being a country kid meant I got to do what I wanted and when I wanted.
Rough and tumble with the boys and scrape my knees whenever possible.
None of this bubble-wrap bullshit that kids are put through these days.
I don't think I would be the person I am today without growing up the way I did and that's what being a country kid means.
To go to Gore and write the Newslink and be the Gore reporter for the Southland Times, truth be told it was like going home.
Although I can be seen in heels walking like an absolute idiot, because I still haven't quite worked out the best way to walk with an extra inch, give me my red bands and I'll be singing Jason Aldean the whole way home.
My childhood, teenage-hood and whatever else-hood there is to come will revolve around this.
I can't wait to take off on horseback and just be away from the craziness of the big smoke of Inver-vegas and even Little Old Gore.
To jump in the swimming hole or rip my pants on barb wire... I can't wait!
Lastly, before I forget, one thing I am yet to come across is some of these so called hot farmer boys around the place.
If anyone seems to locate them, could they please inform me of where they are!
Requirements to follow.
* Image top: The farm view at Blackmount.