My partner was concerned that I wouldn’t really like the community where we purchased our homestead. He mentioned the town was a blue-collar town that was in a recession since the mill closed. But we toured the community a bit before buying and I saw they had a yoga studio and coffee shop and I knew it would be great. JKJK, well not really, but sort of. I did a bit more research than that, but it was the yoga studio that sold me. Of course I still had some doubts in the back of my mind that maybe my partner is right and it would only be after we lived down there full time that I would discover that the community is filled with some grumpy rednecks and that the yoga studio only offers yin yoga and I would feel like the only left-wing homesteader in the area. Luckily, I am now quite confident that the community is perfect, and there are some like-minded people there already. I figured this out after spending our first night there…
Last summer we booked two weeks off work and went down to the property for a nice holiday/mini reno, but that is another story (the story of the mold room…) So after arriving late on Friday night, we awoke hungry and decided to nip in to town for a nice breakfast. On our way in we saw a sign that said the farmers market was on that day. Those that know me, know that I love farmer’s markets. It is this fantastic place where like-minded people get together to sell local food and talk about ethical farming practices. Aka. Heaven. So we get to the market, and I am already on cloud nine. They have all different types of booths: baked bread, dried garlic, veggies, samosas, fishing lures, essential oils, and really I could go on and on. And what do I see, a lady with cords on and I knew I was right at home and we had probably picked THE best community to live in (near actually, about twenty minutes). You see, she wasn’t any lady with cords on, she also had on an old t-shirt, she was carrying a basket for her farmer’s market pics, she didn’t dye her hair, and she had a couple of kids in tow. This is like the trifecta of the person I would want to be friends with; I too don’t die my hair, I also have a basket for my farmer’s market goodies, I like old t-shirts, I don’t have cords, but hers were cool, and I don’t have kids, but I hope too when I live there. So yeah, a ten on the potential friend scale. And no, I did not creep out and try to befriend her, but someday I am sure we will be besties and we can laugh about that fateful day.
So my friends, you can see how the lady with the cords, combined with the farmer’s market, really solidified my contentment of our location selection. Prior to this, we had also met our super awesome neighbours, which was actually enough for me to know it was home, but the cord lady really locked it in. And another time, I will tell you about our awesome borscht making, bean growing, log home building, home brewing neighbours.
Later on, at the cute café, I overhead some young families (mid-twenties) talking about their backyard chickens, cool right?