There are times in adulthood where we have these threshold moments – where we have these little realizations that we are slowly growing older and seeing glimpses of how our upbringing truly shapes who we become, be it good or bad.
As expressed and explained previously, I grew up without neighbors except for my grandfather. He lived across the creek from my folks, and a little bridge joined the cow pasture (which was basically our front yard) with his yard. I used to walk freely back and forth from his house to mine while my friends had to drive across the state (or the country) to visit their grandparents. It was a lot of fun, except for the one time I forgot to tell my folks that I was heading over for the afternoon. They were worried sick about where I ended up, and when I returned home, I received a “reminder” to tell them whenever I went somewhere. Heck, even to this day if I head to Winston-Salem or anywhere else, I still have the urge to let one of them know where I am headed.
Growing up, my grandfather had a garden. When people ask me how big it was, I always say, “I’m not sure about square footage, but it was definitely big enough to ruin a boy’s Saturday.” To make things clear, I was not knee deep in dirt every day or every weekend; I’m not going to pretend like I was. However, I was in it enough to build just a little character and to learn where food comes from. Besides school lunches, I ate A LOT of what we grew. I had no idea how good our food was until I got older. Besides eating at school, 95% of the vegetables we ate, we grew. I remember how hard my folks worked in the garden with my grandfather – stringing and breaking mess after mess of beans (if you don’t know how much a mess is, you’d know it if you saw it). I woke up many Saturday mornings to the sound of that spitting whistle on top of the pressure canner. I remember our sinks and countertops being piled with corn cobs; the counter had the cobs that had just been shucked and silked, big pots were cooking the corn, and the sink was full of cooked corn soaking in cool water. Many, many spring, summer, and fall days and afternoons were spent doing these sorts of things.
My first year out of high school, my grandfather got sick and passed away, and my folks sold his house within a year or so thereafter. During this time I was in college, my parents were as busy as ever, and my brother was working full time and maybe even out of undergrad and in seminary. While I missed my grandfather (and still do!), I didn’t miss the work. I swore up and down that I’d never have a garden, cows, chickens, or anything of that sort. I’ve always wanted to live in the middle of nowhere, maybe do a little writing here and there, but as far as having a garden and growing my own food, forget it. No way, no how.
However, within the past year, something has begun to stir in me. I have, what I believe to be, a genuine desire to maybe start growing some of our own food. I never thought that I’d have this desire, but it’s like now that I have three kids, I want them to know what I know. I want them to experience some of the same things that I did and to appreciate what they eat because they realize the hard work that went into it. I swore that I’d never even think of doing any sort of work like this again, but I find myself being drawn to it for some reason. I don’t know if it’s due to watching Food, Inc., one too many times, my general lack of trust with USDA regulations (or lack thereof), or if my 9-10 month stint of eating primarily vegan has messed with my brain, but I’m really wanting to start growing my own food and showing my kids how it’s all done.
I fantasize about raising my kids the way I was raised because now I see how my upbringing has shaped my appreciation and mindset towards things modern. More than once I have thought about getting rid of our TV because, in all seriousness, is there anything REALLY worth watching for hours on end? What a waste of time we dedicate to that box that sits in our living rooms. We could be listening to music, reading, or actually (gasp!) talking to each other. I like the idea of spending evenings between supper and bedtime outside, either working or playing. If we have to be inside, I’d like to be reading together, playing music, cooking, or anything besides sitting in front of some sort of screen.
I feel as if there has been a substantial change in my life in the past 6 months or so, and I’m not sure what it is exactly. On more than one occasion, I have found myself doing research on farming, bee keeping, organic vegetables, milking cows, wine making, cheese making, soap making, slaughtering chickens (not sure if I can go “there” yet), hormone-free milk and eggs, the health benefits of raw milk, and even what to look for when buying a used tractor. What the heck is wrong with me?!?
In reality though, I really don’t think that this is going to happen until little Everett is old enough to be a little more independent (my little man’s just a few months old). Everett, Aedan, and Emma Kate take up most of our time, but as they get older, they won’t need us for every little thing. When the time comes, I think Marci and I will move to somewhere more remote where we can try out some of these things. It would be so much fun to do this and write about these new ventures including our victories and our mistakes along the way which I’m sure there will be plenty of both.
We are praying for God’s timing in all of this. We are very happy where we are now, but we will not likely live in our little neighborhood for a terribly long time. I’m very thankful for our little home, and it’s not a bad place in the least bit. While it’s a great house and super-efficient, I really don’t feel like it’s the place that our kids will “come home” to whenever they are off at college, or when Aedan and Everett bring home their significant others. (It’s already decided that Emma Kate will stay with me forever and never marry until I’m dead and gone, and for the record, I do own firearms should a young lad decide to try me. I’m only kidding! Sort of.)
As far as a timeline for all of this happening, I’m not really sure. I’d like to wait until we get our basement finished and also wait until the kids are fairly independent. If the door opens for us to do this sooner than later, I’m fine with it. If not, then that’s ok too. For all that are interested, I’ll keep you posted.
I plan to write another blog soon with basically the same heading, but this time discussing my slow, yet drastic, shift in musical focus in recent years.
