Down on the Farm

Welcome to my humble abode. 

There is a single place in this house that is out of view of any exterior window. It's maybe two square feet: just enough room to stand. And when you stand there, all that's keeping you from seeing and being seen is a pane of frosted glass on an interior door. 

 That's just one change, and it can stand for all the others.

We've been here two months. It feels a lot longer. Likely because we have had more people over in this past two months than in the previous twenty years put together. It's largely the same people, and they are the kind of friends indistinguishable from family. But it has still been a jarring adjustment. I can no longer walk around with dangling figs, because this is now a "just walk in" sort of place.

As such, it's a lot cleaner.

Oh, you'll never fully expunge Eva's clutter without likewise expunging Eva. Her mom was just this side of a certified hoarder and she forced Eva to clean both her home and those of others without compensation or thanks, so it  both genetic AND a product of childhood trauma. But you can...confine the clutter to a coffee table, and we have done so. It's necessary, because Eva's mom's five wiener dogs get into everything.

Five wiener dogs. We never asked for these. We especially didn't ask that they not be housetrained.

It was worse. These Dachshunds weren't socialized either. Anne saw her pets largely as possessions and bestowed little affection or even attention on them. Coming here was always an ordeal for me because the barking rarely let up. That's mostly been alleviated now, thanks to Julia, one of those "friends-who-are-family". She took care of this place between Anne's passing and our moving in. They still bark more than I'd like and they've encouraged Dolly to do the same. It remains a work in progress.

So does the house. 

Originally, it was a doublewide. It's been augmented considerably by Eva's father. He added a large office that is now our living room; he also added a screened in front porch where I have spent many hours reading. We removed the kitchen table, being as we're living room eaters (we have a foldaway table that blossoms quite impressively, for guests) and opened the kitchen right up, adding an island for much needed counter space. We have dramatically more cupboard space here than we ever had in Waterloo. 

We've added two modern offices and a quasi bathroom (vanity to come) in the basement. How many trailers do you know of with full basements?

We have one more room to add, a larger bedroom for Mark. Eva's dad had already roughed it in. Hopefully that's completed in the next eight to ten months.

***

It's an adjustment in so many ways. I can no longer walk to the end of my driveway and catch a bus that would bring me to a bookstore, a movie theatre, a store, or anything else. It's 17km one way to Campbellford on three paved  roads, two of which are hilly. To that end:

Meet the Meet One Breeze Pro, coming to me towards the beginning of next month. My first "car". This does a top speed of 32 km/hr, which is as fast as these things can legally go in Ontario. That's fast enough for me. It's rated for a 450-lb (204kg) payload, so it won't deflate when Lord Fatass here gets on it.

I'm excited.

The fact is, I was always something of a homebody in Waterloo. I know many women who think of home as a bed and a pillow and not much else and while I admire their energy, I can't match it. Things? You want to do things? Didn't you just do things all day? That's how they get you.

But that doesn't mean I want to rot here. I've already decided my first trip into town -- which will come after several test trips, on account of I haven't rode anywhere at all for two years and haven't ridden regularly for nearly ten -- will be to procure a library card. I might stop at Dooher's, the "sweetest bakery in Canada" Or Eva might ask me to pick up a few groceries at Sharpe's Food Market, which has quickly become my favourite grocery store ever.

The trike is not my only vehicle. We have a golf cart to carry us around the property, especially useful for putting the garbage and recycling out. And we have a riding lawnmower Eva's learning to use so she can teach me. I've only used one once, in Caledon when I was nine or ten years old, and that was just farting around. Here's there's a good two acres of grass to mow, not counting the back fields.

Campbellford is small (population 3321 in 2021) but punches well above its weight on account of it being a touristy place It has a McDonald's, a Fat Bastard Burrito, a Pizza Hut, the obvious  Timmy's, and a plethora of independent restaurants from Chicken Kingdom and Seafood -- Facebook link --  (about as good as Mary Brown's, which is worlds above KFC) to Antonia's Bistro which I very much want to try. 

I'm surprised at just how much there is to DO in Campbellford. Among the highlights is the Westben Summer Music Festival. This year, in lieu of the classical concerts I would normally attend, we're going to see Ron James, one of our favourite comedians, for the second time. (The first time, he greeted the crowd at Center in the Square in the middle of Research In Motion's implosion with "So good to be in Kitchener-Waterloo, the only place in Canada where a RIM job is a bad thing.")

It's scenic here. Almost half of my trip into town parallels the Trent River in a manner reminiscent of my father's old hometown of Britt, ON. I'm seven minutes from Healey Falls and about twice that to Callaghan's Rapids; I'm also quite close to the Ranney Gorge Suspension Bridge.

***

We call this place the farm, and it is one. There's a huge barn with a massive finished room in one part and a whole lot of chickens in the other. We also have guinea hens to keep the ticks under control and a pair of goats, Chloe and Caspar The Friendly Goat.  There's a tiny trickling creek just before our second field, with a park bench. It's a beautiful spot to sit and savour the quiet. 

The quiet.

The quiet and the dark are (chef's kiss). At night if you leave all the lights off the darkness is just short of absolute. 

So all in all, I would say this move was an improvement. There have been no unanticipated downsides, and the anticipated downsides largely aren't as bad as I had feared. The isolation may get to me in time, but that's unlikely. Daily (at least) houseguests are the biggest change...and it's a good change, a needed change, to jolt us out of our shells. This new chapter in our lives is off to a good start.