So, a few years back my grandfather decided he was ready to leave the suburban city life, his steady stream of work, be a few extra hours from family, and finally start the farm life he had wanted since he was younger. His wife was not the most excited about the move but after a few years of convincing by my grandfather and their daughter (my mom) she started to look for houses out in the fields.
It took about two years. Nothing was just right for either of them. One didn’t have enough trees or one didn’t have a barn. One had the space but not the fence and one was simply too into the woods. We weren’t sure if they were going to find the right home and live a comfortable life of the country.
Then, one day, my mom (who is also a relator) found a little house off a country high-way. It had a Baptist Church sign in the yard (no one on my mom’s side is exactly religious) and two little old barn houses and a run-down shed. They had it bought within a month and the house molded to them overnight.
Never had I seen someone find the life and home and have everything come together. It wasn’t perfect by any means, lots of work needed done, but they walked in and that house welcomed them. Even my grandmother sees it as a wonderful home and one she doesn’t want to leave.
They have goats who whine, chickens who cause more drama than they lay eggs, dogs that are as hyper as they are cute, and a horse that is a diva.
And even though it has become harder since they bought it, they are still happy and at home.
Until things changes, I plan on staying with them during chunks of the week to assist with their farm life. Feeding animals, gathering eggs, wearing out farm dogs, chipping away at an overgrown garden, cooking in a skillet, and watching the sun laze about as cows walk past.
Sounds nice. I do believe it will be as well. Different experience to add to the journey. A change in pace and a way to connect with something else inside me and out within my family as my grandmother is showing some concerning signs of declining health, both mentally and physically.
(Btw: Bridgette the horse makes it a pain to take photos–one day Bridgette…one day!)
Although tinged with a shade of sadness, I feel like this is something great and changing. And I cannot wait to document my time under the sun with all of you.
Quote of the Post:
“I dwell in possibility.”