Monday 29 January 2024

Monday, Jan. 29, 2024

 I'm slow to get back into the rhythm of things here. I have taught two days since coming back home. Mostly I've been tending to the hens and getting back into my (usually) daily walks through my little village. 

I walk alone with no distractions. My route is the same streets but sometimes I change the direction or I add a loop to cover more distance. In the nicer weather, there are sometimes other people with whom to exchange pleasantries, but in this cold that is a rarity. I have a couple of dogs who still bark at me from behind fences or from inside houses. 

Mostly I think.  I go over a lot of things in my mind during my walks. I plan ahead, I think about my family, I think about my to-do list, and I think about the village. I do not live in an idyllic "chocolate box" village where people lovingly tend their window boxes and stroll about with their pretty babies. I live in a scrappy little collection of streets ripped up by the snow plow inhabited by locally raised seniors and young families who can't afford to live in better, bigger homes. As I've said, there are few if any amenities: a mechanic, a plumber, a post office, a community centre, a fire hall. There is no corner store. There is no gas station. 

Many people who live here have bigger things to worry about than maintaining a pretty yard or putting on new siding, or picking up the random garbage that blows out of the recycle boxes. Sure, there are some who keep things tidy and take pride in their surroundings, and those are the ones that, by comparison, really stand out in the little community. But for the most part, the properties are tired, worn down, somewhat messy, and in previous economies, cheap - much like their owners or renters. 

I walk past a place that in my mind I refer to as "the hoarder house". It is a small one storey house that has had a car bumper on its front lawn for more than a year. The boxes and random objects sprout from the porch of the house and make their way down both sides of the drive way. They continue into the back yard. I know there is a young woman and a child who live there, or at least I have seen then in the nice weather. I often wonder how much room the child has inside the house. Personally, I think hoarding is sign of mental illness, but I'm no expert.

I walk past another place that has an exterior combination of various greens - mint, olive, kelly... Inside that house lives a pair of grandparents who have taken over the raising of five (I think) grandchildren for what has been hinted at as good reason. They have created a haven in the backyard of a collection of swings, tree houses, bird houses, and seasonal decorations. 

There is another place I walk past that used to be a school. I will come back and edit this with the date on the outside of this big brick building later, after my walk today, if I remember to take note. It is a big, two storey structure with two entrances and I think it was actually a secondary school. I find it funny that this little village was "booming" enough to have a highschool, but of course it would have drawn from outside areas. Now it has been converted into apartments. It seems to house a collection of men, some older, some young enough to be away all day working, but sometimes I see them gathered round the back with a small campfire, talking, with a dog keeping them company. There is a work truck parked there, but it seems to always be there, so maybe there is no work for that person. 

Then there is a sweet little house lived in by a widow who I sometimes see walking to her granddaughter's house. She always changes up her seasonal decorations and things are cheery and bright. I look to see what is coming up in her flower beds and have serious clematis envy, as her two climb over wooden trellises and bloom like crazy. 

There are times, especially early spring when the snow is melting and all the garbage and "stuff" that was hidden by sbow becomes visible again, sometimes never to be dealt with, when I desperately hate this village. I'm happy to just stay put in my own house and not look anywhere else. We are at the end of a dead end street, but now new houses have been built across from us, so we no longer look out at fields of grain or corn. 

But then spring flows into summer and plants are blooming and those people who do care are cutting their lawns and saying hello and there are enough nice things to look at that they outweigh the bad. Why do we stay? Well, because it is home. This is where we raised out two kids. We are on an acre at the outside of the village, away from everyone else (or we once were) in a big old yellow brick house and I've created flower beds and a vegetable garden. Husband built a pool and a big gazebo and a chicken coop. We have been able to have a little oasis at the end of our road with relatively low (although they have increased) taxes. And our closest neighbours either are never there or are rarely there (they were in that group from the big city that decided to buy in rural areas during Covid). Would I like to live somewhere else? Yes, sometimes, but not yet. Not now. For lots of reasons. (Couldn't even imagine having to pack up our lives - husband's garage alone would be a nightmare!). 

So I get out and I walk. And I think all these thoughts and then about 23 to 30 minutes later, I come back to our home, having filled my lungs with fresh air and done something good for my body and carry on with my life. 

20 comments:

  1. Thanks for taking us on a little tour of your village!

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  2. That is a very honest post. Not everything in the garden is lovely, but you can still appreciate the flowers when they bloom.

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  3. I loved the tour of your village and appreciate the musing on why we choose to be (or simply end up) living where we do. It sounds like you have a nice home in a community with the full range. I feel a little sad for people who live in places that are entirely 'people like them' - whether by age, or class or income. I learned a new phrase recently about internet algorithms: confirmation bias. When your world supports all your opinions and you don't get to be confronted with things that might invite you to think differently or consider another point of view.

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  4. A good walk helps many things.

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  5. How descriptive! Your neighbourhood walk is full of variety, people and houses. I can see why it is more enjoyable now with snow to cover the imperfections. You remind me that I must get out and walk in our neighbourhood again. I have been lazy these last 2 weeks
    Half an hour of fresh air alone with your thoughts is good therapy

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  6. Like you, I've created my own oasis where gardens grow, fruit trees flourish and everything is maintained. Your post shows, there are large contrasts in any community. Hardship can be seen when we look closely. I was recently made aware of the somewhat high incidence of domestic abuse in my rural community. A friend reminded me, you never know what goes on behind closed doors.

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  7. We rarely get snow in our corner of England but recently awoke to a blanket of sparkling whiteness. Taking Rick out for his early morning walk before anyone else had ventured out, the village looked absolutely beautiful covered in virgin white snow.

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  8. What a wonderful post, Jenn. I feel like I can see your neighborhood -- the best and maybe the worst. And it's nice that you are at the "end of the road," so to speak, with space for the chicks and the pool and to be. But still, roads to walk, things to see as you do. Your eye for detail is wonderful and while I would have liked photos I also liked seeing them in my own mind through your well chosen words!

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  9. We moved to this neighbourhood in November, and I have yet to go for a walk. There are several parks close by, but most without play ground equipment. There are back alleys here, so I see nothing more than the front. It seems most properties are generally well kept, but I guess I'll see for certain when the snow melts and I get out for a walk. Gosh, I'm lazy.

    Your little community sounds like our city but in a much smaller setting. There are neighbourhoods that have some of each of those descriptions and some that have a mixture. Yes, hoarding is often a sign of mental health issues.

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  10. Thank you all for commenting. I didn't think this would be a post that would warrant any comments! No Jeanie, no photos. I'm always conscious of putting images out there without permission and even feel bad when totally random people end up in my pictures. Something instilled in me at work. Hi Sue, and welcome back to blogging. I'm noticing that my posts are few and far between these days. And yes, really it is just about getting out and moving my body, as one should every day, but one doesn't always, especially in cold weather. -Jenn

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  11. I don't know any hoarders personally but I have seen lots of hoarders on the TV programme. The humiliation makes it improbable they are unlikely to ask for help. Or accept it, if offered.

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  12. I'm not sure exactly how or what to comment on this post other than it was so very well written. (Did that sound a smidge negative regarding not knowing what to comment? 'Twasn't meant that way. I simply really enjoyed your descriptive writing.)

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  13. There are a few houses here in my city that sound similar to some in your village. I often wonder who actually lives in them as I never see anyone outside even in nice weather.

    God bless.

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  14. This post makes me think a lot. I live in a very small snooty town. But there are those houses like you described. Which must make the "upper class" cringe. But then I when I see them I think really just some elbow grease and it could look so much better! I do think hording is a sickness I am just not sure how a husband and wife who live in those conditions are they both like that? How does that happen?
    I know a couple who were very very wealthy and horrid hoarders the both of them. They did nothing to up keep their house and yet millions sat in their bank accounts. That kind of situation baffles me so much.
    Cathy

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  15. I used to live in a very similar village, and I miss it now. Thanks for the refresher course.

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  16. Your descriptions sound so like many small towns here in West Virginia---and even of this area where I live, rural as it is. Mostly good people, living in a variety of ways.

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  17. Jenn this was a lovely post. On my short winter walks in my neighbourhood, I could use many of your descriptions about the upkeep or lack there of for some homes. I often wonder why some have a home, which does require maintenance, ... I know judgment. During Covid we thought about moving from our village, which has tripled in size since we moved in. Those that have moved here in the last 5 years do nothing but complain that there aren't any amenities, no Tim's, they have to drive their kids everywhere else. We moved here for those very reasons. But like you, once I get back home & close the door, I think, safe haven. ... Mary-Lou =^..^=

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  18. I love walking more than any other exercise, especially with my dog. Out here where there are no sidewalks I tend to walk trails instead of the roads, because people drive them like they're the audobon out here. I grew up in a suburb of NYC though and our family walked a lot down crowded streets - as a child I loved seeing christmas trees in windows, lights on over kitchen sinks, imagining the lives of the families inside. There are so many small towns like the one you describe - we are a small rural town without our own grocery but it has become more built up. I believe to some extend what you see on the outside of a house regarding it's neglect or upkeep reflects the mindset of the people who live within it. I know people who don't have much of anything at all, but their home exudes warmth and welcome. Others with financial resources abundant can live within a cold environment indeed.

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  19. I need to start walking again, as like you it's my thinking time. I love your descriptions, made them very easy to see in my mind.

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  20. I live at the end of a dead end road too (well a snowmobile/RV trail carries on). It's nice to walk with my dog on week days, in either direction. Come the weekend one puts life and limb at risk with these crazy weekenders. There were some really shoddy houses along the road at one point. One, an old schoolhouse, was torn down and a little bungalow built in it's place for a brick mason's mother in law. It's a sweet little place. Another house was almost lost in a sea of trash for years. I used to collect their children and bring them to my house. That house had DIRT floors! My (for years) unfinished house was a palace compared to a couple of the places down here. I made it a safe and welcoming place for deprived children to come and have a bite to eat and peace and quiet. I'm happy to report all of those children from that family did well in life.

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