We read about living the homestead life for many years before we had our chance to move to a farm. Alongside the articles about raising chickens and choosing the best cow and innovative ways to grow tomatoes, we read frequent features about the problems encountered by “outsiders” moving into rural areas. There were tales of harassment, destruction of property, cold shoulders and other general unfriendliness. Those unfriendly “locals” often wrote right back, telling all about how those city and suburban folk moved out into the middle of nowhere, and then promptly commenced with trying to make it more like the city they’d just left. Now and then, a successful “outsider” would write in to suggest that the only way to be accepted by the locals was to mind your own business and don’t try to change things that nobody else thinks are broke.
I was a little nervous, let me tell you, about moving to this place. Would they like us? Would they mind us? And I resolved to like everyone and to never say aloud anything but nice things about anybody else. It’s a good thing, too. In this county, word travels fast. Very fast. The word about us still seems to be good, so I guess my evil plan is working.
Actually, what happened is this. A week or so ago, I met a woman. As she was introduced, I said, “Oh! I’ve heard a lot about you!”
She nodded. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too.”
When I repeated that to David, he said, “Uh, oh,” but I know who she heard it from and I wasn’t worried. 
Tonight, I got a letter of introduction in my email box from a friend of this woman I just met. With any luck, I’ll get to meet her in person this week, but it sure did make me smile to follow the trail of people from me to her. It’s a trait I love about this place, the way everybody knows everything about everybody else, the way a need or a tale or a question makes the rounds and comes back full circle. It pleases me to no end when I see it happen. Some people might see it as a liability, as gossip or “sticking your nose where it don’t belong”, but I see it as love. In this place where relationships are close and nobody is very far removed from anybody else, all the chatter is just love.
And I love them right back.
Reminds me of home. I remember, when I was in high school, if I ever did anything I wasn’t supposed to, word got home to my parents before I did! It was so funny. It’s just the way it is in small towns. Everyone knows everyone, and people look out for each other. It’s the kind of thing a person comes to miss when they leave that kind of place. Hopefully you guys never have to leave.
I agree…we moved a lot growing up, and the smallest town we lived in was my favorite by far. My mom hated it…always felt like everyone “knew her business”.
But I loved it. I loved going to the grocery store and seeing 6 people I knew. Now we live in a big town/small city, and it’s growing way too fast. I plan to move when we can.
We were out in the barn tonight, talking about moving, and David looked out over our place and on past the neighbors’. Quietly, he said, “You’ll never find another place like this one.” I know it’s true. We’d move again if we had to – family is more important than anything else – but I surely don’t want to. I love our people and I love our place and I love that everybody knows what’s going on with everybody else. It’s the sort of thing that makes a person feel comfortable and safe, like being part of one big, quirky, affectionate family. It’s the sort of thing that makes a place feel like home.
sounds like a sweet life
My uncles are always shaking their heads about the people who move out to the country, build a fancy house downwind from a farm, and then complain about the smell of manure. I guess “fresh country air” has different meanings to different people!
Ha! I’ve been watching a little subdivision of great big houses go up right in between two farms, and I just KNOW those folks are going to be complaining to the county about it.
Serves ‘em right.