the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker
kelly | 11 January 2006 - 1:31pm
It's no secret that I feel ambivalent about where I live. Whenever Rob and I travel, I BEG him to please let us move there. PLEASE. And I have promised all sorts of good behavior and endless sexual favors if he will PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE let us live in New York. Just for a few years. PLEASE. But dude ain't budging. In fact, if I told him that I were moving to Manhattan and he could follow or not, I think he'd bid me a fond farewell. Fucker.
But honestly, were he actually to agree to move, it would put me in a complete tailspin. Because the thought of leaving this place makes me seize inside. Because our families are here. Having my family as part of my daily life is hugely important to me. I love that I can workout with my mom. I love that I can borrow tools (and expertise) from my dad. I love that I can have my brother over for movie nights. I love that we often drop in on Rob's parents, just to chat. (And I love that if we ever do have kids, we will have a seriously sweet childcare situation.) And of course there are our friends as well. Few of them live in Redneck Valley, but nearly all of them are just a 2-hour drive away.
Still, sometimes I resent living here. I wish for the adventure and romance of starting a life somewhere else. I assume that, because I grew up here, this place is confining, that it won't allow me to grow further. And just recently I realized that the reason I feel this way is because I'm still viewing this place through a child's eyes.
Living in a place you know as well as an intimate friend, you tend to take a lot for granted. You tend to go to the same places you've always gone and do the same things you've always done. When the Redneck Valley Target opened in October, it occurred to me that this town (yeah okay, it's a small city) is growing up right in front of me and it's my own damn fault if I'm not taking advantage of what it has to offer. At the same time, I realized that maybe I could be content to live my entire life in this place. (Target has that effect on a girl.)
So in the past few months I have been making the transition to viewing my surroundings with adult eyes. Turns out there's a lot I love about this place.
There's the mechanic we go to because both of our fathers have trusted him for years. The first time we walked in there together he took a moment to get the situation sorted out in his head..."So you're D's son? You're the Escort, right? And your dad is P, and you've got the Civic. And now you're married...Well, how about that?" And he sort of shook his head and smiled to himself, and I couldn't help but think he seemed pleased that the Escort and Civic had fallen in love.
There's the little Italian restaurant one mile from our house that has an ambiance so terrible it's laughable, but the food is great and the prices are so good we've vowed to become regulars.
There's our veterinary clinic with staff members who know me and my furry family well, who tell me my babies are beautiful and who understand that I need to be spoken to in a soothing voice just as much as, if not more than, the cats.
There's the flower shop owned by Carla, a good friend of a friend. She did our wedding and she has a degree in art which means her flowers are fabulous and don't scream FUNERAL HOME even if that's where they're headed.
There's the free indoor track I just discovered a year ago that's only a hop, skip, and a jump from my house, where I often stop after work to decompress.
There's my gynecologist who is the best doctor I've ever met, who sincerely gives a shit about my sex life, who doesn't assume I want children and insists I have PLENTY OF TIME to decide, who, when I found a lump in my breast in college, insisted on a second ultrasound even though the first barrage of tests had come back fine because "your mother sounded worried on the phone."
There's the yarn shop that opened up a few months after I started my first scarf, that offers lessons and welcomes knitters to come and sit and knit.
And now there's the yoga studio. I'd been telling Rob for at least a year that I was going to open one myself, even pointed out a Space For Lease downtown that I thought would be perfect for it. And just this week one opened, in that very space no less. And yesterday I went and got my downward dog groove on and it was good.
This place is finally starting to feel like home.
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awww....now I want to move BACK!!!!
p.s.--I'm glad you've accepted the yoga studio. That's wicked awesome that there's one back home now!
I want to live there too!
I have felt the same way at times. Until I moved a thousand miles away. When I lived on the edge of Philadelpia I always took for granted all that it had to offer. I know Philly is no Redneck Valley but I never took the opportunity to do all those things thru adult eyes. Like the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall etc.
Lauren and I keep telling ourselves that we will do all that Orlando has to offer before we move back north. We have yet to do any of that stuff yet. We have been in Olrando almost a year.
I think this post is going to inspire me to do more.
There is so much to love about this post. But the Escort and the Civic falling in love? That had me giggling like a school girl.
In our youth, we seek excitement and new thrills in our lives. You're still young, so who can blame you? Honestly, you're not tied down, it's just you two, so why not move to NYC for a few years? Rob, get your head out of your ass and give that woman some adventure!
Okay, so in his defense, you'd be leaving everything that's comfortable. Stable jobs. Clean air. I'd kill for a family situation like yours. I'm afraid that one day I'll wake up and my parents won't be here. So yeah, appreciate what you've got.
But the moral of this comment is that you can always come home. Oh, and NYC will always be there, but your family won't. Yeah, I'm a bit of a downer today.
On behalf of all those men who are not familiar with Yoga or its terminology, thank you so much for the visual images that getting your "downward dog groove on" conjured up. That said ...
I live on a tiny Island. It's very insular - the standing joke is "Welcome to our Island, please set your watch back 25 years." Everybody knows everybody, and who their father is and who their cousin is (in fact, they may share cousins), and what your uncle did that got him sent up for a spell. It can feel incredibly confining.
But it's also a place where I can run into my doc at the Farmer's Market and he'll write a prescription for me on a napkin, and the pharmacist will chuckle and fill it, and when I reach in and realize I left my wallet at home, will say "Catch me next time."
A month or so ago we had our community Christmas potluck, and as we came in all the ladies wanted to know if I'd baked my bread again this year and did I bring lots of my special garlic butter? And they asked about the kids' marks in school and if Roxy gets out they'll phone because everybody knows her on sight and when they heard we were having a big family wedding here in July, they offered their spare bedrooms if our guests from out of town don't want to stay in a hotel.
I've lived in big cities and I've lived in small towns. I understand the appeal of both, and the drawbacks as well. On balance, I'll live small and visit big.
This post makes me want to hug you.
And Nilbo's comment makes me want to hug my pharmacist.
Doreen, if you moved back, this place would officially be home to me.
Pack your bags, Di! Or at least come visit me!
william, the one time I was in Philly, I was yelled at by police for running through the middle of an Independence Day parade. (What? I HAD to cross the street!) Sorry, that was a random memory.
Actually, yonzie, your comment illustrates the exact ambivalence I feel. Sometimes I do the fun while we're young argument, sometimes I do the but Rob has a good thing going at work argument, sometimes I think home will always be here and sometimes I realize my family won't. Thank god now at least I can go to yoga to clear my mind of all this shit and do some deep breathing exercises.
Nilbo, what I love/hate about you is that I will work on a post, off and on, for a day or two and finally post it and then within the hour you will post a comment that is so eloquent and lovely and I am like, "Wha? How did he write something so perfect in that amount of time?!" Live small and visit big - Those are words I plan to remember, and live by.
Ha, LadyBug! And hug away, girl!
I'm really happy for you that you've found more to love about your home. And take it from someone who moved very far away from home, that it is a really hard thing to do. Infact, I only find it gets harder each year.
Your home sounds heavenly. Like Nilbo said (OK, that's the second time I've typed that in half an hour; I'm gonna need some therapy or something), live small and visit big. As long as you have the resources to travel, to get your cosmopolitan, excitement fix, I say you've got it made, with RNV as homebase.
And, I hope I can convey this without sounding mushy or worse: looking at the blog award nominees, and visiting new places, has caused me to look more carefully at the old places. You have a fine old place here; IMO, your writing gets better and better -- and it was fine to start, don't misunderstand -- I feel like we've seen you grow in self-expression over the past many months. You're a really really good writer. I'll totally buy your book whenever you get around to that.
Target is totally messing with your mind.
Aw, just joshing. I think it's great you are finding peace in Redneck Valley. I know TGIM sure wanted me to find peace in Podunky Small Town, AZ, and looking back there is much I did love about the place (most of it similar to what you touched on in your own way), but I can't say I regret the move. Then again, we were honestly OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE. Which is no fun whatsoever. Unless you WANT to be Off The Grid and living off the fat o' the land. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Shutting up now. Yay, you!
Your Redneck Valley sounds like it's about the size of my parents' UT Redneck Valley. I've never lived there, but I can see both the appeal and the drawbacks as well. Of course one of the additional drawbacks about a UTRNV is the Mormon thing. Not that I dislike them, but if you're not one....
And I second what Susie said. :)
GREAT post.
If you change your mind about moving to Manhattan, I'm sure Cletus the Fetus wouldn't mind sharing his/her room with you.
Alright, thanks for delurking. Now we can be friends.
It's funny you should post this today as this is the One Year Anniversary of My Moving to Wisconsin which, notably, I did not celebrate on my site. I hate it. It's not so much that I hate it here, it's that I miss home and that, my friend, is where I am jealous of you. Enjoy your home and everything that makes it home. You are a lucky, lucky girl.
Bente, I can definitely understand how being so far from home would be difficult. I certainly idealize new places, when in truth it would probably be very hard for me, too.
Wow. Thank you for that, Susie. You totally made my day. (Okay fine, my month.)
cat, you realize that when I get lonely enough, I'm going to persuade TGYM to haul y'all down here to live. You can totally build a house in the cow pasture behind our house and then we'll be neighbors and stuff! ROCK.
Ern, the conservative mindset is one of the things I dislike most about living here. It is part of what defines this place but it certainly keeps me from feeling like I belong. (And in that regard I don't want to belong.) Also, thank you.
Aww, I'd love to share a room with little Cletus the Fetus!! Hee. But be careful what you offer, Torrie - I just might show up on your doorstep. :)
Welcome, Mama Duck! And thanks for your comment - sometimes I need to be told that I'm lucky in order to realize it's true. However, I will say that I am WAY jealous of your cheesehead hat.
You know what? I live in one of the 'top 5 best cites in the world' and while I love it (most of the time) I also watched a meth-head push over an innocent bystander who was "in his fucking way" last night. Redneck Valley is veeeery appealing to me right now. Big city=big problems.
One day, I will work somewhere else. What I will be doing will be life-changing. I will need Rob. And, God-willing, with a little mojotasticity, you two will come and enjoy the fab life...
Escort and Civic love is too cute.
I'm totally with Susie on the "live small and visit big" - she always has such a good way with words.
And, should you decide in the next couple years to visit Alaska, you're more than welcome to wear my cheesehead.
There is so much feeling in this post that I want to cry. Happy cry. For the little girl that grew up, and continued to look at the surroundings through little girl eyes. Realizing that not only did you grow up, but RNV is growing up with you!
Nilbos words are just fantastic. Live small, visit big. Even within the living small, there is so much there on a daily basis that makes it your world. The security being 'home' is hard to come by sometimes, and you have it and know it. Its a precious thing, i'm glad for you. Your civic has his escort...and they have more than enough time to have civcorts.
Be honest, Von - it's not the meth-heads you're worried about, it's the mice. Hee! :)
Mojo, if by "life-changing" you mean rolling in money and by "fab life" you mean palm trees, booze, and expensive shoes, then when that day comes, have your people talk to Rob's people. And by "Rob's people", I mean me.
mrtl, I would love to come visit you! Also, I dare you to wear that cheesehead during Frida's birth. That is all.
What a lovely comment, lawbrat. Thanks. And the civcorts thing was too cute!
Ooooh, Kelly, do not get TGIM all excited like that. He's already completely on board with moving out there by y'all... He's like, "I work with a guy who commutes from F---- R---- every day! We could totally make it work!" Two-hour commute to work, one-way? No PROB. Good LORD.
Kelly, this could be a great meme. We all need to find a list of things in our hearts that show us that wherever we live, it can be so good.
I love your town--can I come?
I know the feeling though-- Every time my hubby and I visit somewhere that we really like, we think about purchasing a property there and moving out there: for example: Indianapolis--when we visited last summer you should have seen the price and size of properties that were for sale and the size of the houses--my goodness! Also--Virginia Beach--so nice....and then there was Pittsburgh, oh and the Grand Bend area of Ontario, and Ottawa, and Ketchikan, Alaska (from on our honeymoon) and Vancouver and Prince Edward Island, oh the list goes on and on! But, really, I'd be happy just about anywhere as long as I'm with my hubby! (yup--all sappy and sentimental, that's me!)
Ya, I'm with you on that one, cat. A two-hour commute? By choice?! Not so much, no. Although it would rock to have you guys closer. We could like, churn butter together or something.
And I would love to read about what makes everyone else's places special. Neat idea, Amy.
That's me exactly, Effie! I guess it means we can see the charm in every place we visit. I'm just still learning to find the charm in the place I live...