The Simple Life

This great web called "Life" is a strange warren of paths that cross at random junctures and lead to various far-flung possibilities; take any of them, and you'll definitely learn something new about yourself and surprise yourself, or confirm what you always knew. But maneuvering down those paths, and taking the odd jaunt down a different direction is the adventure -- you don't always know what lays at the end of it, even if you think you do. Funny how sometimes our desires after living a few years can be the polar opposite of what you thought you'd want when you were a kid.

I went to high school in Alaska at a tiny little blip on the map, thanks to my dad's military service. I hated the isolation, despite the beautiful scenery. I went to college at a larger (relatively speaking) blip in west Tennessee, still with a population well under 10,000 at that time and where they pretty much rolled up the sidewalks after 5 p.m. The closest town of any size was 30 to 45 minutes away, depending on exactly where you were wanting to go. The new SuperWalMart was 45 minutes away, in case you were wondering; that was the epitome of a "good time" for a lot of us, meeting at the WalMart at odd hours while shopping for various staples of college existence: paper, Ramen noodles, and caffeinated beverages. It about drove me nuts.

I yearned for the excitement, the bustle, the thousand given possibilities of each moment that the city seemed to promise, at any hour I chose to explore them. Not just any city. THE City, New York City, mecca of arts, melting pot of cultures and wonderful strange foods, and home to alligators in the sewer and the occasional scary experience in the subway. I was going to savor every second, soak it all up in my bones until I couldn't draw any more in. And I was going to be an actress by night, living it up and struggling to eke out an existence like the other million actors and actresses trolling the streets and shops by day as waiters or clerks. I didn't figure on reaching Broadway, if ever, without some more years in studying and experience, but off Broadway was just fine with me. I'm afraid my father had visions of me living in an alley somewhere with cats for company, so I think he was relieved that I never did quite make it there.

Somehow, I stayed put in the small community after college, went to work at a bank for a while, and then snared a job as an arts administrator for another town in a different county. I wanted to pay off my student loans before attempting to move to notoriously expensive New York. A noble goal intially, but then things started to change.

I started to appreciate the slower pace, the people who had all the time in the world to get things done so they could stop and chat at the local grocery store, or on the sidewalk on Main Street. I wound up getting married to a guy who was going into the military, had kids pretty much immediately, and have moved 5 times in the last 6 years.

Now? Don't laugh. I yearn for a simple country life. Sounds hokey, but I'd love nothing more than to live in an old farm house, raise an enormous garden while I'm raising my kids, and throw a couple or three chooks in the mix for eggs. I'm fascinated by the old wood cookstoves like my grandmother and her grandmother used. Despite the fact that I'd be busy from sunrise until sundown doing various things associated with rural living, I know that time flows differently in the country. It's more satisfying to me, somehow, to have spent a day outside working on something I can physically see the results of, and something that I actually enjoy, than to push papers in an indoor office with nary a glimpse of the sun.

I don't want pigs, or horses; if I wanted a cow or goats for milk, I'd really have to think about that. They eat a lot, need a lot of work and attention and I don't know that I'd have the patience to handle that and pick critters off my veggies at the same time. Or the patience needed to keep the livestock out of the garden altogether.

So, yeah. Far cry from aspirations of starring in a show off Broadway in the Big Apple. I actually went to L.A. to audition for Les Miserables after I graduated from college, that was how serious I was about pursuing a career in theatre and moving to New York. (I didn't make it past the second round, chiefly because although I'd had scads of experience by then I was not yet an equity card holder).

But the simpler life is more soothing to my soul, I think. The only stipulation for this sort of life is a necessary sabbatical to a huge metro area a couple of times a year, one to enjoy some cultural offerings not found in the hinterland, and two to remind me of exactly why I chose to live in the sticks in the first place.

For now, this is still a pipe dream; we live smack in the middle of a subdivision that was built up here in Texas about 7 years ago. We are crammed against neighbors that we can't see because of the privacy fences, and there are no trees to be seen. I also can't garden in this house because we're renting and the owners don't want me digging up the back yard or putting in raised beds. My alternate plan Q (yes, it got that far) was to have a container garden -- but again, life happened, and I have a few pots but no dirt or plants to nurture to fruition. And it's the end of June, a bit late for summer plantings and too blasted hot for shorter growing season crops. The high today was supposed to be 104, and 103 tomorrow. We're having a cold front move through over the weekend; highs are only supposed to be 100 each day.

I have to admit that I still get a twinge when I think of Maryland summers. They got hot some days, but nothing like this, for as long. I also wince when I think of all the beautiful compost that I've had going for about a year now, and the fact that I can't do a thing with it.

But.

We're here, doing what we're supposed to be doing. And that's okay. "Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans" and all that jazz. One day, I might just get that house and garden...unless I change my mind in another 15 years. : )