I haven’t had a chance to write about my trip last week.
I was in Illinois – and it was good. Questions answered, new ones popped up. And then I was back on a plane and then.. I got off the plane, worked a bunch, went on a Girl Scout camping trip with 10 girlypies, a ton of rain, and some horses and BAM! Today is Friday already. My fingertips are dyed hot pink and turquoise as I type this because the girls had crazy hair day today at school. In other words – just another day in paradise…. 🙂
I want to tell you about something that happened though.
I was meeting with our banker (and by our, I mean The Butter Churn’s banker) – she is a wicked smart, funny lady that has the patience to hold my hand as we work through all this beginning stuff. And after talking to her for a couple of hours she asked me, with a sincere and yet a bit incredulous look…. “So would you move back? And Why?”
And I opened my mouth. And burst into tears (I BURST into tears. Not exactly the image I was going for) as I said – Yes. In a heartbeat.
And with my heart in my throat. And wanting to be honest. I tried to explain about the fences. (I know, I know, I’ve lost you all)
So where I live now (and it’s lovely. I won’t deny it. And I do love it for many reasons) however for this story, you need to know that where I live the sweet, little cottages that originally made up my neighborhood, have been torn down as each older person dies. And they are quickly replaced by large (superlarge. GinormouslyLarge) buildings.
It’s hard to know your neighbor. And eye contact is not a go-to for people. We all look busy all the time. And apologize for sleeping. And sometimes forget to laugh.
I love my job here because I get to reach out and have human interaction in a meaningful way. But I also see how the isolation gets to people, and the new-moms. The fences between houses are very high.
Years ago I remember being back in Woodhull and walking around, and noticing the lack of fences. And it hit me in my chest how this is how it’s so different.
Sitting on a front porch, iced something in your hand, waving to your neighbor as he drives his riding lawn mower down the street. Saying “hey – how is your mother/son/uncle-in-st.Louis/gout/etc…” during a quick pop-in. The pop-in. So rare here.
Now I know I sound all romantic about this, and it’s okay. And I also know that a lot of people still may not understand why. And that’s okay. Because the question was “Why do *I* feel this way”.
So last week.
I walked into my bestie’s church on Easter Morning. The sun was streaming in and my mom and Roxi were up singing in the choir – a medley of songs (the good ones. lol). And I looked back and Roxi’s daughter gave me a big smile and a quick wave. And the gal next to me slid me a bulletin.
And there were no fences.
In my last post I told you how we need a location still. One of the best things about this endeavor so far has been watching a community knit together ways of helping. Folks have reached out and said “Have you tried so-and-so’s place? or what about this other place?”
Every time a door has gently shut, more open, and more hands help open it.
So would I move back? In a heartbeat. And knowing that I can’t, and finding Roxi (she found me), and moving mindfully with good choices and support, we are building a foundation for a business that will be so strong because it has already been created with many hands and hearts.
Next post I’ll tell you about Sarah’s Farm. AND HOW AMAZING IT IS. And how she found us a cattle trough for the store. Yes, I wrote that just the way I meant it.