Waxing nostalgic...and country living.

I am a thinker...not always deep thoughts, mind you - but definitely someone who always has a million thoughts running around inside her head. I am a fairly restless person, I guess, as evidenced by our many (voluntary) moves and my need to always have something "on the go". Well, lately, I have been thinking about country life. I miss it. I had it once, and in many ways I wish I could still have it.

learning "life skills"!!

We used to live in a very small, quiet village a few hours from here where the scenery was beautiful, but offered not a lot in lieu of entertainment. We lived there when our boys were small and we were rather distanced from family and friends. We were never really content there and always looked forward to the time when my husband would be transferred to a larger town, and basically a place where more young couples with young families resided. I wanted my boys to have lots of friends, be able to pop back and forth between their houses, and ride their bikes in front of our house without fear of imminent danger! Basically, I craved suburbia...
...just had to throw this pic of my sweet boy in...

Well, now I have it. I do love it, but I miss the country life we enjoyed those last few years in "seclusion." We lived in a big, old Dutch Colonial on 31 acres of land. When we first bought it, it had several outbuildings on the property, including the original (smaller) farmhouse. The original house had fallen into major disrepair. In fact, my father fell through the floor into the cellar while poking around in the house! It was a hazard; so it was an exciting day for the boys when we had the fire department come and burn it down. I still remember standing in the kitchen window of our house, my sons at my feet (jumping up and down with excitement), and watching the house disappear into fiery rubble before my eyes. You don't get that kind of excitement everyday in the suburbs!!

photo: www.purestyle.com
We also raised chickens (meat birds), and initially I was very resistant to this. In fact, I remember crying in desperation, trying to talk my husband out of it! I was convinced that our property would be forever tinged with the pungent smell of chicken manure. I was mortified at the thought! Indeed, I had no idea how much joy I would experience holding baby chicks in my hand, allowing my toddler son to gently pat them, and fussing over them in their temporary coop (in our basement's cold room) while they were growing strong enough to prepare for the move outside. I didn't even mind the trudge up the field to their coop to feed and water them each day, my little boys trailing behind me, chattering about who was going to get to scatter the most feed. We eventually sent them away "to a farm to live", and in exchange got the freshest, purest chickens to store in our freezers. The guilt I felt about their fate was replaced by the comfort I felt knowing I was feeding healthy, free-range chickens to my children, to accompany the potatoes, corn, yellow beans, Swiss chard, squash and strawberries from our garden. I loved sending the boys out with a colander or basket to pick "supper" and truly felt pride that every morsel going into their mouths and bellies was grown (and raised) by us. Combined with the fresh air, running all over the big yard, and playing in the giant mud hill we made them (for their trucks and diggers), they lived a very healthy, outdoorsy life.
Ross Farms, Nova Scotia

We had good friends nearby who had a farm where they raised cows. I love that my boys had the chance to witness not one, but two calves being born, jump from hay bale to hay bale in the large barn, and play with their favourite barn cats. My youngest son, especially, loved tractors and was thrilled when our friends would allow him to sit up on the tractor and pretend to drive it. I can still hear the "brrmms" in my mind. Rubber boots and ball caps were always in order and to this day, I still have such a soft spot for little boys in rubber boots...







"Brmmm"

I am glad our boys had these experiences. Do they remember them? I'm not sure, but I do know they benefitted from the purity of it all. They weren't "urban" in any way (in fact, one of the thrills of going to New Brunswick to visit Nanny, was the chance to ride on an escalator!!), but they were innocent, bolstered by (very) fresh air; organic, home grown food; and hopefully, they inherently learned the importance of taking time to enjoy the simpler pleasures in life. It may not surface in their teen years - but perhaps, in adulthood, they will realize that a balance between the excitement and opportunities of more urban living and the simplicity of country living is a balance worth seeking. I think that is why I miss it...

...or maybe I just miss my little boys...