Can you imagine swapping your cute shoe collection for a few pairs of work boots, giving up weekly nights out with the girls to shovel manure and mend fences, or foregoing frequent trips to your favorite take-out restaurant in favor of making all of your own meals? Trading Sex in the City for Little House on the Prairie might seem extreme and even frightening, but “˜ruralpolitans’ tend to think the benefits outweigh the sacrifices.

The Wall Street Journal recently reported the increasing ranks of city and town dwellers that are moving their families to the countryside. Sure, they’re giving up a long list of perks that come with city living – like public transportation, walkability, nightlife, shopping and diverse cultural experiences.

But with a shaky job market and no guarantees, the peace and security of living the simple life on your own piece of land can be awfully alluring – hence the new generation of surprisingly young urban refugees aiming for rural self-sufficiency.

“Most of these kids say they’ve just saved and want to put their money someplace that won’t go away,” Montana real estate agent Tom VanHoose told WSJ. “They see General Motors go down and AIG go down and they are asking, ‘Gee, can my company go down?’ There’s a lot of angst and anxiety.”

Considering that land in some areas of the country costs as little as $1,000 an acre and off-grid green homes can be built for a pittance, it’s possible to be debt-free and have extremely low living expenses when you own your own land. And you don’t necessarily have to become a farmer, depending on your crops for your income – access to high-speed internet makes it possible for people to keep their jobs and telecommute while hobby-farming or raising just enough food for themselves.

It’s not for everyone – nor should it be, considering that high demand for a rural farming lifestyle could encourage sprawl. But it also might be more possible than you think, even if you’re an unmarried city chick who’s never planted a seed in her life: many “˜ruralpolitans’ are single, and femivorism is an intriguing new trend as well. Or, perhaps you could have the best of both worlds with an urban homestead a la the Dervaes family’s “˜Path to Freedom’ house in Pasadena.

So, could you become a “˜ruralpolitan’? Do you think keeping your own chickens, growing your own food and raising your kids on a farm would be worth it? What would you miss most about urban life?

Image: hipiotix

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Perhaps it’s the fact the yard is covered with green grass, which is a water no-no in my world, yet a feature imposed by our homeowner association regulations. How we’d love to replace it with artichokes and succulents.

Maybe it’s because my garage is in the back of the house and leads to the backdoor entrance. That sure makes it convenient for unloading backpacks and groceries.

I suppose both of these excuses keep me from perching on the brick steps out front, except once in a blue moon, like on the magical night of Halloween, when hundreds of candy-crazed strangers travel to our “safe” suburban neighborhood to trick-or-treat up and down the tree-lined streets.

Yes, my front yard has practically become a stranger to me, nearly a decade after the baby-rearing years when my girls ran wild with the Bernsteins, the Murphys and the Ritters, the sidewalks their playgrounds for colorful chalk graffiti and clunky, three-wheel vehicles.

It’s kind of eerie how people don’t venture out front anymore.

The children in those other families have gone off to college. They’re the same children that showed up at my front door when my first daughter was born, asking “Can we see the baby, Mrs. Bradley?” Before going away, they had graduated from a variety of private schools in the city. When I was growing up, every kid on my block went to the same public school.

Our pediatrician, who lives in the hood, came over when both daughters were born and delivered hand-knit sweaters she had made for them in her spare time. We no longer go to her house for annual neighborhood Christmas parties. We just see her face when the girls contract a bug, break an arm or crush a finger in a door.

Sure, once in a while, I park at the curb or a soccer mom picks the girls up out front, and I wave to Mrs. Bernstein across the street. But on most days, I shuttle them through the back.

Once inside the back door, my daughters quickly become shut-ins, burdened with hours of homework, entertained after with hours of FarmVille or shows like NCIS. When I was growing up, everyone ran out front after homework, playing ball in the street, climbing trees and doing cartwheels or just shooting the breeze on the curb.

What has changed for me and my family?

Is it having personal computers that lure us into a false sense of “community connection” that actually keeps us from having a real one in our very own neighborhoods? Is it the security issue which gives parents a false sense of panic over children being abducted on their lawns by a stranger? Calming that hysteria is the subject of the eye-opening book, Free Range Kids.

I know it’s not just a city thing because last Friday night, on our way to a friend’s home for dinner, we drove down a thoroughly urban street where parents with toddlers were hanging out on their stoop, the children playing and the dad pouring his wife a glass of red wine.

I felt envious. Here I live in one of the most coveted neighborhoods of San Francisco, and I’m lacking all that I truly desire on a Friday evening: the family outside taking in the sunset, sipping organic wine, moving to the rhythm of a glider, and waving hello to other families doing the same. I guess you could say I need to move to the country. But, then again, think of that couple on their stoop on Divisadero Street.

The concept of the country can and should always be in our minds. It is that concept that keeps neighbor connected with neighbor, every night, not just that one October night when we venture out to the stoop.

This is the latest entry in Luanne Bradley’s column, Life in the Green Lane.

Images: tomask, Luanne Bradley

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