What a difference a year makes! We generally know we are always evolving but when you stop and look back in diaries, journals, calendars or, say, blogs, you are transported with complete clarity. This post from a year ago brought me back into the skin of Cory, ca. 2011.
I was madly reading modern homesteading memoirs (left the big city behind for the more authentic pace of farm life) and planting a monster garden. I loved Dominique Browning's story of leaving New York City for Rhode Island and Eric Brende's tale of doctoral research turned life change among the sort-of Amish. I read at least a dozen. Yet, there we were, surrounded by nothing by fields and animals. We lived the farm life, well, ranch life.
A year later we've made the opposite move from everyone in those books. From farm to town. We are surrounded by neighbors. Our dogs are fenced in and shushed. We try to remember to draw the curtains at night. The oxen and chickens have new homes.
And yet, we love it. We love being so close to town and feeling a part of the community. We can bounce home for dinner and back out for events, take evening classes, join activities. We have shifted from being apart to being a part.
Quite a change.
Reading that old blog post had me rolling around in the memories and reflecting on these changes until the very end, when I read the last line: "Green Acres is the life for me?"
I laughed out loud. God is funny. The name of our little subdivision here in suburbia? Green Acres.
Seriously.
Further proof that this was meant to be our home.
I was madly reading modern homesteading memoirs (left the big city behind for the more authentic pace of farm life) and planting a monster garden. I loved Dominique Browning's story of leaving New York City for Rhode Island and Eric Brende's tale of doctoral research turned life change among the sort-of Amish. I read at least a dozen. Yet, there we were, surrounded by nothing by fields and animals. We lived the farm life, well, ranch life.
A year later we've made the opposite move from everyone in those books. From farm to town. We are surrounded by neighbors. Our dogs are fenced in and shushed. We try to remember to draw the curtains at night. The oxen and chickens have new homes.
And yet, we love it. We love being so close to town and feeling a part of the community. We can bounce home for dinner and back out for events, take evening classes, join activities. We have shifted from being apart to being a part.
Quite a change.
Reading that old blog post had me rolling around in the memories and reflecting on these changes until the very end, when I read the last line: "Green Acres is the life for me?"
I laughed out loud. God is funny. The name of our little subdivision here in suburbia? Green Acres.
Seriously.
Further proof that this was meant to be our home.
1 comment:
I'm sure you are exactly where you are supposed to be. Keep manifesting away Miss Corry!
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