From Philly to a farm: The adventures of two urban transplants learning to live in a 150-year-old farmhouse in Germansville, PA.
Living in the county, on a small lane that connects two larger roads, we don't get much traffic. It's generally the same few cars that pass by reguarly and although I don't know the names of many of the drivers, I always wave and they generally return the gesture. Today, though, while mowing the lawn (will it ever stop growing?), I saw a massive line of traffic coming down the road.

This wagon train passed by last year while we were working on the property and we were completely amused. Apparently the horse farm over the hill has a two-day gathering each year that involves music, a bonfire, and a wagon train.

Ya just don't get that in the city.