Posted by Suzanne McMinn on September 5, 2007 @ 8:56 am
Daily Farmhouse Journal
An ode to what the old farmhouse has meant to us on the day we begin construction on our new home on our own farm about three miles away.
It was a cold fall day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die.” Products of suburbia, my three children wondered why there was no cable TV or Target, not to mention central heat. My daughter, hungry from the trip, tried to call Domino’s. My cousins explained gently (and without laughing) that they don’t deliver pizza out here. I think it took her a good thirty minutes to believe they weren’t making that up.
I was at a turning point in my life, a crossroads where for the first time I could choose where I would live, not simply be carried along by circumstance. I was born in Texas, grew up in Maryland, Alabama, and California, and had since lived everywhere from Idaho to the Carolinas. When people used to ask me where I was from, I would go blank, like a foster child passed around to too many families to know which one was home. Where did I come from? I longed, deeply, to find a place to call mine. And as a writer, my office is my laptop. I could choose anywhere. So why did I choose West Virginia, a state that has notoriously lost population in the past century?
When I was a little girl and we lived in a suburb of D.C., my father took us every summer to an old cabin in West Virginia that stood on the last family-owned piece of a farm that once belonged to my great-grandfather, a farm once spanning hundreds of acres on the banks of the Pocatalico River. My father was born and raised on that farm in what was then known as Stringtown, a gas and oil boomtown in the early 20th century. Back in his day, what are now wild woods were cleared farm fields. There was a church, a school, a store, and even a hotel. The gasoline plant employed 50 men. There were wooden sidewalks down the dirt road and a public walking bridge across the river. The one-room schoolhouse where my grandmother taught still stands, but the Stringtown where I played during those long-ago summers was much different otherwise. It was like some kind of lushly-forested alternate universe filled with the ghosts and tales of my ancestors—the now-overgrown hills and meadows they once farmed, the caves where they hid their horses from Confederate soldiers, the graves in hidden cemeteries where they were buried. I loved those summers in West Virginia. I loved the trees and the quiet. I loved swinging on grapevines over the river and learning to skip rocks. And most of all, I loved that sense of history and place. My father clearly felt enough sentiment for it to share it with me by bringing me to visit here, yet despite its charms he-like so many of his generation in West Virginia, drawn like moths to the flame of cosmopolitan life beyond these simple hills—grew up and moved away, never to return but for those brief times. He used to say about West Virginia, “I got out of there as soon as I could.”
But when I stood at that crossroads nearly two years ago now and decided to move to the boonies of West Virginia, to a tiny town just over the hill from my great-grandfather’s old farm, I took a deep breath of the clean air, looked up at the sky littered with stars you could actually see, felt the far-reaching pull of my family’s roots, and said, “I got here as soon as I could.”
We live in the cutest little town that takes, oh, a minute and a half to drive through. Most people might think there’s not much here, but there’s all we need. If we actually want something from the city, we can drive the winding road to the interstate and get it, but that doesn’t happen too often. We have a cute little library comprised of one room, a cute little grocery store with five aisles, a couple of small churches and a bank, all flanked by country roads so narrow you have to pull off to pass. The school is so small, when my eighth grader graduated and I asked him who his friends were, he looked at me as if that was a stupid question and said, “There are only thirty-six students in the whole grade. I have to be friends with everyone.”
And he’s right—everyone is friends with everyone. The whole town is like one big “Cheers” bar. Everyone knows your name. At first, I found this disconcerting. Why are these strangers in the grocery store talking to me like they know me? And how do they know my name? When my oldest son totalled my car two days after he got his driver’s license, all the kids at school knew about it by the time he got there the next morning. When I arrived at the accident scene, a paramedic I’d never laid eyes on before was calling to me by first name. My cousin’s wife (a nurse at the nearby hospital) ran down to the emergency room in case we needed to come in. My cousin heard about it at his office and drove down to the scene. It’s like everyone knows everything by some kind of osmosis here. Everywhere I went for the next month, people asked me about the accident. This is a world away from the anonymous suburbs. Here, people are connected—to the land, to the history, to each other. People know—and care—about their neighbors (and they seem to know everything approximately five minutes after it happens). I watch my cousin drive his tractor down the country road every spring to plow his neighbor’s garden. I see my cousin’s mother take food up the hollow to a friend who had a farm accident. When a kitten climbed in and got stuck in the dash of my car, neighbors came over to try to get it out. No matter how big or small the problem is, people don’t just care, they help. People keep walking when a woman is being attacked in broad daylight on a public street in some parts of the United States, but people will drop everything to help a kitten here.
My kids eat sandwiches sitting in apple trees. They jump fully clothed in the river if they want to. They skate on frozen creeks and they know how to pick a hoe out of the shed. They know what a low-water bridge is, and how to set a turtle trap. We don’t worry about burglars at night but raccoons. They eat corn on the cob and know they planted the seed. People around here don’t have much if you compare them to suburbanites. Even if they can afford it, they don’t buy granite countertops or designer clothes, and there’s not much competition at the high school for the swankest car. As my son likes to say (in his exaggerated teenage way), “They’re all driving cars their grandfathers bought in 1950.” But for all they don’t have, what they do have is each other, along with that deeply-held pride in community and family and plain living that has been largely lost in the contemporary world.
And that’s exactly why I wanted to bring my once-pampered suburban children here, to grow up knowing what matters, what is real. West Virginia is still an alternate universe from the rest of the country. Here, you don’t call for pizza. You call your neighbor.
Other people may have chosen to leave, but I chose to come, and I choose to stay. When people ask me where I’m from now, I have an answer. I’m from West Virginia. And my children, who once wondered if I brought them to this slanted little house to die, have bloomed like flowers taken from a sterile hothouse and put out in the natural sun.
We didn’t come to this slanted little house to die. We came here to live.
Thanks and love to the old farmhouse, my cousins, and all of you who have kept me company on this journey as we take the next step.
*Post update: We moved into our new farmhouse in March, 2008. We’re settling in, building a new farm from scratch, and populating it with chickens and goats. Please visit the daily farmhouse journal to see all the latest fun!
9:38
am
Beautiful, Suzanne. Everything from what you said to the way you said it is beautiful.
9:49
am
That truly was a beautiful, deeply moving piece of writing, Suzanne. I am deeply envious, as my childhood years in Gaspé, Quebec (small, isolated) were vastly different, perhaps because we (mom, dad, me) were outsiders in the very closed community.
Yet my soul still longs for the land, and sometimes a sad-sick feeling will sweep over me, with the words “I want to go home” coming unbidden to my mind. It’s not a longing for Gaspé, per se, but for wide-open spaces, forests, and room to breathe.
Then I have to remind myself of a Chinese (I believe) proverb that says, “Bloom where you are planted.”
Sometimes that’s the best you can do.
Wishing you Blessings and Joy on your next steps, Suzanne.
-Kim
9:49
am
What a wonderful and special place you have found for your children to value. It is admirable and I enjoyed your writing about how this new home has affected you and your children. Memorable and unique.
10:35
am
Wonderful, Suzanne! I’m sure your kids will always remember home!
10:38
am
Suzanne, what a fabulous summary of a very special place… the Farmhouse! Can I still come visit? LOL!! At least you won’t be far when you move. I know the Farmhouse enjoyed you, the kids, and the cats as much as you enjoyed living there. Now you guys are part of the legacy!!! Best of luck creating a new one at your new farm!!!!!!!
10:47
am
11:39
am
Suzanne that was wonderful and I have seen from your blog how much happier you all are for the move.
11:40
am
This is very special and heart touching!
12:05
pm
In some ways I hate living in rural Arkansas, but sometimes I wish we lived even more rurally than we do. Beautiful post!!!
12:06
pm
Wow Suzanne. I am so happy for you and your children that you have found a place of peace to live and grow up in. I hope the best things for you and your family. God bless you and them. Hope everyone has a great day today.
Leanne
12:53
pm
I forwarded this to my DH… to explain why I’m so anxious to move. I grew up in the boonies… it’s an experience I’ll never forget. I want to raise my DD the way you’ve just described.
Great post.
1:19
pm
That was lovely. (And your son is a card.)
1:30
pm
It’s a good thing my office looks out into the woods, or I could be VERY jealous of you right now. And why is it that people who grow up in places like that can’t wait to leave? I think a simpler life sounds heavenly. Where people care and stop to help.
2:55
pm
Very poignant! Maybe people can never see where they are until they are away from it. I think making the choice instead of it be chosen for you makes all the difference. I love your son’s comment too.
3:15
pm
I admire you for taking your kids to the “country”.
5:16
pm
WOW… touching, wonderful and… just wow.
And people wonder why I want to move back to the country… I think from now on I’ll have to send them to this posting!
Cole
5:54
pm
That was a beautiful post.
6:34
pm
I finished reading your words and realized that my eyes were moist. What a lovely post.
As a country girl who moved to the city, then back to the country once again, I can relate. I love that my kids enjoy the rural way of life. Your own kids seem to be thriving, and clearly you love it too.
6:35
pm
Lovely post, Suzanne. And wonderful photographs! I’m glad you’re enjoying West Virginia so much.
7:11
pm
I admire you for making the decision to “go home”. I am sure a lot of people would like to do that but can’t. I was born and raised in a small town and am still here. Of course,our town has grown over the years but you still can’t get pizza delivered. We expect a pictoral diary of the new home as it is being built. Have a great day and
to all.
8:47
pm
A very moving post. I would love to live in an area like that. You found a home, not just a place to live.
I hope you are having a fantastic week.
9:11
pm
That was lovely, Suzanne. Thanks for sharing it
1:46
pm
Lovely post!! Love the picture of the house in the snow.
11:06
pm
Wow! Wow! Wow!
I want to move there too!
Beautiful stuff, Suzanne. Beautiful.
9:10
am
What a beautiful story. I too live in wonderful WV and you couldn’t have described it any better. I love your farm house. I’m glad your kids are enjoying life in the country.
7:51
pm
Wow. Beautiful. You made my soul sigh.
I am so glad that you and the kids found a place to heal, to grow, to thrive. I have enjoyed all of the pictures of your new world. I look forward to pictures of your new house!
8:06
pm
What a wonderful, beautiful post, Suzanne.
11:39
am
I finally had to comment. I’ve read this maybe a dozen times, and it makes me feel like crying every time——
And the others’ comments are So Nice…….
4:57
pm
Suzanne, that was beautiful! And it makes me a bit teary-eyed to realize that the little town where my kids go to school is losing so much of what made it special as it grows and grows.
Here’s to your next step!
4:42
pm
That was beautiful Suzanne, you found home
7:20
pm
beautiful piece………..sent a link to “uncle conrad”.
your sixth cousin(i think), ginger
3:44
pm
I loved hearing the story of the “slanted little house” this summer in Dallas. I’m so glad I got to read about it, too. Good luck with the new farm house.
Beverly
2:59
pm
Dearest Suzanne,
You don’t know me, but I am your Cousin Michael’s wife, Sonia - we live now (as I’m sure you’ve heard) just south of Cleveland Ohio in the house I formerly shared with my late husband. I have stayed at the farmhouse - and I, too, had many of the feelings you so beautifully expressed here. I don’t belong there - as although I attended schools in St. Louis, Denver, Oklahoma City,and Kansas.I was “born” in Akron Ohio and at not quite 18, I returned to Ohio to attend Kent State and have been here ince. This is my home; it was the home of both my parents. But - West Virginia reminded me of my “growing up” spent in a town of 4,000 in southern Kansas. It was peaceful, beautiful, relaxing and I found great calm and contentment there. I’m glad you and your children have found a sense of belonging and have gone back to your “roots”. I hope to meet you sometime next year. Always, Sonia L. Sergent (Mike Sergent’s wife)
10:48
am
SUZANNE, AUNT RUBY LIVES ON, I CALL HER NANNY. GO TO THE LAMP ROOM AND READ HER LETTER ON THE WALL. GLAD YOU COULD APPRECIATE HER LEGACY. MICHAEL
9:33
am
WHERE do you grocery shop??
Love the blog, the kitties, your stories and pictures..
Happy Holidays!
MADDIE
10:45
am
What a lovely transition home. You’re giving your kids a wonderful life there in W.V.
2:02
pm
I know we’re not to covet our neighbors, but I truly envy where you live. What a wonderful life you have made for your family.
7:39
pm
The website listed above is my daughter’s. I just found your site today. I lived in WV for eight years from 1973 to 1981. It was the best time of my life. I lived on the 14-acre remnant of a once-larger farm, in the old farmhouse that was started in 1836 and added on to over the years. The picture on your site of the old farmhouse you lived in was much like the one I had, with huge maples in the yard. I have missed it every day of my life. I am happy for you and your children. Be glad, you have made the right choice. By the way, I tried to rate two of your pages but I wasn’t proficient in it so they came out as one and two stars when I meant to leave five. Thank you for the glimpse of a wonderful life.
1:54
pm
Congratulations, Suzanne. Many continued blessings to you and your family.
CG
7:50
am
Suzanne,
You are one of a few that understand the true beauty of living in a rural West Virginia town. I grew up in a rural area about 45 minutes east of Morgantown [Terra Alta] and it was at times hard knowing that there were modern conveniences in the larger towns that we didn’t have. I now look back and truly appreciate the life that I shared with my parents and sister in our farming community.
I now live in Austin, TX and yearn for that childhood for my son. Unfortunately, we can’t move back to WV but I am determined to give him the smalltown experience one way or another.
I miss my home among the hills…….the rugged beauty and the aboslute quiet on a cold winters night.
Thanks for the post!
2:00
am
After reading your story, I’m ready to pack up the house and move to West Virginia. Seriously, you do have an awesome way with words, and how very fortunate for your children that you got them there before it was too late!
4:06
pm
Wow! You are so very blessed! I’d love to live in a place like that.
9:45
am
My sister moved her family to 5 acres near Seattle. They are far enough out that they are in the country. They also enjoy small-town like relationships through the small church they attend.
She was telling me a story about someone coming to visit and as soon as the car doors opened all the kids disappeared. She said that always happens.
She sent me a picture the other day and her kids had built a fort. I asked if she told them about the fort we had built. There’s something about being outside, running and playing and imagining what could be. It’s the best way to raise kids.
Thank you for your story.
12:53
pm
Just reading your story makes me want to go find a little out of way town and settle down.
Thanks for sharing your experience.
8:08
am
12:40
pm
I agree with all you say. I was raised like that in a small Eastern Oregon town and to me that is home….Lovely piece.
4:58
pm
Wow. What a gift of words you have. My husband and I are currently working on finding a home in the small town my father grew up in and our friends are asking us why we want to leave. Why leave all the social groups? The stores in every neighborhood? Etc. Etc. Well, after living in this house for 3 years now we don’t know our neighbors names, and they like it that way- there’s one reason. We eat food that comes from who knows where, and I want to eat food that comes from our land or from my uncle down the road- there’s two. But people don’t seem to get that. From now on when they ask us “why?” I will send them to this blog. thank you for sharing that story.
10:06
pm
We have a ranch at a place like that in Taylorsville, CA and I always feel soo great there! I love this site because it reminds me of that ranch and I am envious that you get to live in the country all the time. Keep us posted!
1:34
am
Just found your story and enjoyed so much..most people nowadays will never know the joy of small town living..will keep up with you now..
8:42
am
Suzanne
I love your site!!! TAkes me back to another world. My father too grew up in War Eagle WV. Never been there though. I cant wait to make the pumpkin butter. Can you send me the chocolate pudding care recipe - my mother use to make it when i was little. Thanks for letting us in to your home, your farm and your life. It is so refreshing these days. I live in Lancaster, Texas. Where were you born in Texas?
8:57
am
Hi, Sara! I was born in San Antonio. You can find the chocolate pudding cake recipe here:
http://suzannemcminn.com/blog/2008/01/12/chocolate-pudding-cake/
And if you click on the “printable recipe” link at the bottom of the post you can print it.
7:59
am
I found your site and I love it! I,too, live in WV in a very small town and I LOVE it!!!! Lived here all my life. Will check back daily to see what new things you are up to. Love how you describe WV people, we are a caring and loving sort!
11:58
am
Just found your site and love it. I dream of one day living somewhere like “Mayberry”. With my husband’s job, I think we could relocate, but I have two beautiful grandchildren that I would miss. I go through withdrawals if I don’t see them for two weeks!
I look forward to reading your past and future posts.
12:17
pm
Life in a small town is truly wonderful. I’ve never lived in a big city. I’ve always lived in a small town. I now live in an even smaller town than the one I grew up….although they’re only about 12 miles apart. I love the atmosphere here. You go to the gas station and everyone asks how you’re doing and whether or not your dog’s managed to get loose again lately LOL. I don’t think I’d ever want to leave here, but if I had to leave I’d want to find another small town somewhere in the country. I like living in a place where people actually pull over and make sure you’re okay if your car breaks down on the side of the road. I love the “nosey” little neighbor ladies….they always have such wonderful stories. I like the eccentric guy that lives up the street and fixes lawnmowers. It truly is a community. People care for each other and are always willing to help if they can. Yes, I love my little town just as you love yours. All I can say is….”It’s a Wonderful Life.”
1:43
pm
If this is duplicated, I do certainly apologize.
I read the “interview” in the Times Record, and enjoyed every word, but when I went to your site, I enjoyed that even more.
I’ve been a country girl all of my life, except for brief intervals. I’ve had a taste of the “City Life”, and want no part of it. I was away for 8 years and moved back to WV, and vowed never to leave again.
As a child, we also had a cellar door with a big chain, and when you opened the door in the winter to bring out a big pan of apples or pears that had been picked and stored earlier in the fall, the aroma was unforgetable, just as were those fresh fruits. As is yours, the shelves were always filled with black berries, and all sorts of other goodies which my mother had worked hard to preserve in the Summer.
I enjoy your excellent writings, and your photos are very impressisve. Keep up the good work, and I’ll certainly spread the word about your wonderful web site.
Sharon
7:22
am
Nice blog and story ,I quite understand and feel your happiness in the new slanted house .
8:24
am
I also live in West Virginia and in a slanted farmhouse. I wonder if I know your slanted little house? It sure looks like the Sergent’s old place. We go there every first Saturday in June for the annual Sergent dinner.
2:03
pm
I’m finally “home” in WV where my mom’s whole family still lives. I was born into the only little piece of the family that moved away. I’ve spent my life doing things I had to do, just so I could retire and do what I need to do — come home.
My home in California was a little transplanted piece of WV. After I retired I moved in with my son (a bachelor) while I searched for my WV home. I promptly dug up his entire back yard and planted a vegetable garden. I grew enough beans that I canned three cases of quarts that summer. Every fall I make apple butter…well you get the picture. Finally I’m in a place where I really fit in.
I read your piece about the move from the city, and tried to read it to my DH, but I was sobbing so I couldn’t get the words out. I forwarded it to friends and family in CA — they think I’m nuts for leaving. (I think they’re nuts for staying.
You said what I feel so much more beautifully than I ever could. Maybe they will understand after they read it from you.
11:22
am
12:32
pm
SO GLAD YOU KNOW THE MAGIC OF MY GRAND MOTHER’S HOME. READ HER LETTER IN THE ROOM OFF THE KITCHEN AND YOU WILL UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE WAS ABOUT. EVERY STORY ABOUT “GRANDMA’S HOUSE” WAS PERSONIFIED IN HER, YOU KNOW HER AS AUNT RUBY BUT SHE WILL FOREVER BE MY “NANNY”. SHE WROTE ME IN KOREA ONCE THAT THE BEST FRIEND I EVER HAD LIVED ON JOHNSON CREEK AND IT HAS BEEN TRUE TO THIS DAY. PLEASE PUBLISH THE HICKORY NUT COOKIE RECIPE AS IT HAS BEEN SHIPPED AROUND THE WORLD TO ME AND ALWAYS BEEN THE COUNTRY RORD THAT TOOK ME HOME. MIKE
6:34
pm
I found your blog on Google - I was looking for articles on old farm house floors. I too am currently living in a very old farm house in rural New Hampshire. The draft from the basement into the first floor is chilly to say the very least…and yes, all the floors slant here as well!
Your blog wasn’t the information that I was on the hunt for but it was on the other hand, a delightful surprise. Best of luck with your writing! I will look for your books.
11:43
pm
12:11
pm
Wow. I am so jealous. Great post, especially interesting that I found it the day after posting my hatred of city life …..
8:59
am
This is such a beautiful essay about the slanted house, I wish you would publish it in some magazine. Thanks for letting me “in” to your world in West Virginia for a brief, shining moment.
4:19
pm
I love your blog and your story on the Slanted House. My dream is to move to the country in a small town and live in an old farmhouse. I’m so jealous. You have the life that I want!
4:48
pm
Beautifully said..and so true. No wonder you are a writer.
Having grown up as an Air Force brat, then retiring to a small town, I have likes and dislikes about small town living. One, yes, it is wonderful that people are connected - I found out how wonderful that IS, when most of my family died and I felt orphaned. If my husband is deployed, I always say “I can be dead two weeks before anyone would know”….
The flip side, is that I hate the “pecking order” of a small town - certain kids get the BEST summer jobs, because of WHO their parents are and WHO they know…or working as a dental assistant - we could fit in IMMEDIATELY the well to do, but schedule the unknowns, or not take “certain ethnic groups as patients”…type thinking. OR, what you did in 1st grade is NEVER forgotten - you are marked. If you say “Joe blow is a very nice man”…you may hear “yeah, but when he was 6, he was so wild..he smoked a cigarette” - you are marked for life. Plus, it IS annoying to have all the gossip/busibodies…ect. ect. ect.
But, overall, having lived both ways..I have to agree, it sure is nice to have a big old family, who cares - you can overlook many of the other annoyances…just to have caring people around to help and love on, have fun with…
8:51
pm
We lived in Spencer, WV for a time in the 70’s-when it was an All-American City! We always considered ourselves better than those who lived in Walton (LOL); but after reading your entry, I can see perhaps we were wrong! I thoroughly enjoyed your story…look forward to reading more.
9:54
pm
I was just looking for some photos of chicken houses that my girls and I might attempt to build for our banty chicks that will arrive soon and hey here you are! I’ve never read any of your books but I sure did enjoy your description of moving to W. Virginia. It was a comfort to read. We’re in rural upstate NY, near Lake Ontario - the Finger Lakes region. We love it. No pizz delivery here either. I think I’ll add your site to my regular ones to check back to from time to time. Kind Regards, Sabra
11:56
pm
Suzanne, I know just what you mean about choosing to live here. I lived in Marietta, Ohio for eight years and couldn’t wait to come back. Even today when I go on a trip, when we cross the mountains into West Virginia I get tears in my eyes every time. You are also right about the caring community we live in. The whole county is like the people of Walton. If you hurt, the community hurts with you. If you are happy, the community shares in that happiness. It is indeed a GREAT place to live and raise children. Theresa
4:20
pm
A friend shared your blog post with me and I’m so glad she did. I enjoy your writing very much. And can relate so much to your moving with kids to the country. We did the same thing when mine were young and they adjusted fine, altho they thought their lives were over. I’ll be back to visit again. Thank you for sharing.
2:57
pm
Wow..Loved reading that!
I used to live in a small town that to this day still has no running water. Had a small barn and chickens and learned to garden and tell when it was going to rain by how close the train sounded.
Learned to really ‘feel’ each season..time to plant, time to harvest, time to get everything ready for winter, then watch for the first stalk of rhubard to peep through the earth.
Fishing in the creeks, hunting for raspberries and blackberries and collecting black-eyed susans for the table.
Oh what memories you stirred up.
You have taken me back to the most beautiful time in my life. Thank you!
8:30
am
I think I want to move in with you too!
11:33
am
I’m jealous. Sounds precisely like my childhood — since then I’ve been traveling around the world only to end up in Toronto of all places. We don’t even speak to our neighbors in this area for fear of what could and might happen. Everyone is anonymous.
Dehumanizing to say the least!
9:23
pm
Hi me and my daughter were reading your website and tried your banna bread pudding and it was great and easy to make :hungry:.I’m talking now livvy and i wanna grow up and be a vet and live on a farm and i tried to get my mom to make the grandma bread but she said it will take too long because its late but i think its gonna be great when we make it.I love this website and i want to make a website when i grow up one that tells how much i like horses and all kinds of animals.I’m going to third grade and im a A student.I’m eight going on nine in January 14th wish me happy birthday
9:31
pm
Happy birthday, Livvy!
8:13
am
Amen! We did the same thing. A move from Toronto to the eastern part of Ontario, very rural, very good, where we have a small hobby farm. Our children thrived as did our lifestyle (if you can call it that, I guess most just our LIFE thrived)
blessings,
Niki
10:20
am
“West Virginia is still an alternate universe from the rest of the country. Here, you don’t call for pizza. You call your neighbor.”
You may want to clarify that this is true of RURAL West Virginia. I lived in West Virginia from the age of 3 until my early 20s (just a few years ago). I grew up in Bridgeport, which has a population of about 10,000 and is kind of a sister city to Clarksburg, which has a larger population. In the area where the two towns meet, there are a ton of restaurants, shopping, etc. I lived there until I was 15, and I never had the experience you’re describing, because it wasn’t a rural area.
I then spent 7 years in Morgantown as a college student and a few years after. Population 40,000 or so. Tons of pizza places, etc.
My husband grew up in the eastern panhandle in the Martinsburg area. He grew up on 30 acres outside of the town, so that gave him an experience more like yours. But, again, Martinsburg is nothing like you described.
Just thought some clarification might be good. None of the three towns/cities I described have that neighborly sensation, all have pizza places and plenty of grocery stores and restaurants, etc. They’re like any other town/city of population 10,000-50,000 in the United States….
11:43
am
Thanks for this lovely post!
12:11
pm
I cannot tell you how many times I’ve returned to this post. I love how you describe your town and the relationship to everyone. My town has never been like that, however, the town my grandparents lived is was. I loved being there every summer with her, and I so wish we could have brought up our children in a place like that.
12:08
am
Hi! I loved your post! We sound very much alike, how funny!
My name is Amy, and I was born in D.C., grew up in Maryland to age 11, then moved to TEXAS, where I still live. My summers were spent on my great-grandparents farm in West Virginia. They lived between Wayne and Hamlin (closer to the Huntington side). I have 23 acres near Wayne, that has been in my family for over two hundred years, and that is for the most part pretty much abandoned. I have planned to move my family there, but everyone has balked, including DH. It is still my dream, but I have put it on hold, and started our little farm in South TEXAS on 10.5 acres.
Cute pictures!
10:14
am
Oh yeah, the way everyone knows everyone elses business is very familiar to me.
Mind you, small school is no guarantee that kids would be friends with each other. The one where I had to go… Let’s just say I consider myself extremely lucky I had a friend who stood by me no matter how much everyone else bullied me.
7:46
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Hi my name is Barb. I found your site from watchthesky’s site. I want to tell you that reading your blog was like a breath of fresh air. It brought back memories of my childhood days growing up in the country on a farm in Nova Sctia where everyone also knew everyone and were ready to help one another so many times. I will be visiting again soon for updates on the quietness and peacefulness of country living:):)
2:40
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Just found your blog and read this wonderful post- what a lovely gift to give your children- this connection to a life that is real and grounded in your history.
I know exactly that look you describe- I ,too, get it when someone asks me where I grew up- but my happiest times were living at my Grandparents farm/ranch in rural Southern Utah. There is a freedom and a connection in such places- truly granting you roots and wings. I am happy for you that you have the opportunity to make this life for yourself and your family. I look forward to reading more of your adventures.
5:52
pm
Glad to hear someone talk about Walton it’s hard to believe all the excitement that use to be there High School, homecoming parades, school dances, basketball games. I was a cheerleader and the big treat was walking the worn out path down the hill from Walton High School to the store or to hang out in front of the gas station. It’s hard to think now that the entire community and school let out early for the opening of the library. When I tell friends stories like this now they can’t believe them.
11:27
am
This brought tears to my eyes….good for you ! I applaud the decisions you made and the strength to follow threw.
Chantelle