I can't believe my holiday is over. I'm sitting on the screened-in deck, looking out over the fields, the orchard, gardens and flowers. It's so quiet here, the only sound is insects and the wind in the trees (it's very Wilderness Family here in Upper Knoxford). I'm already sad about leaving, I've had to say goodbye to friends and several family members already, tomorrow will just be the grand finale.
As I was driving to church this morning with my grandparents, my grandmother was remembering a story from when she was young...about how she was given a hand-sewn dress by a friend and, while running after hanging Maybaskets (see here for an explanation), she ran into a barbed-wire fence and tore her dress. The dress was repaired, she was unhurt, and she has that memory to look back on. It wasn't an overly exciting story, but it made me think of all the small-town traditions that I grew up with, that I have grown out of, and it's a little sad. It's changed so much since I was a kid, and these traditions aren't always carried on to new generations. When was the last time a Maybasket was hung? Who even knows what a Maybasket is and why they are made?
I can remember making Maybaskets in school, running around a school-made Maypole (smacking into other people as I was a rather clumsy child...something I haven't grown out of) and other activities only possible when you live in a small village. This includes the school (the entire school) walking down the street to get an ice-cream for an end-of-year excursion or our school-bus driver letting some kids off at the store to get drinks or food and then picking them up again a few minutes later. Getting time off school to help harvest the potato crops or it being perfectly acceptable for farm kids to miss time to help with planting. It's all the 'quaint' traditions that go with living in a small village that I look back on.
Yet now I have to think of how much my life has changed, for the better, in just a years' time. I'm living in Europe, able to travel and see places that I had studied in school and visit destinations that I only ever saw in movies. I miss the small-town familiarity that I grew up with--working at a local store for 7 years (never having done a formal interview or actually applying for a job there and knowing my position was always waiting for me on school holidays), spending an hour in the Tim Hortons, drinking coffee and just watching other people, the beauty and quiet of the home where I have lived all my life and the laid-back, relaxed and peaceful atmosphere of this place. I miss it when I am gone, I enjoy it while I am here, but I know that I would never have been happy to stay here my entire life. I want to travel, to see as many places as I can and experience a lot of new things...I wouldn't be able to do that if I had never left home (obviously).
As much as I wax poetic about the beauty and peace of home, I realize that this is probably a very skewed and unrealistic vision I hold. As much as I like the quiet now, I remember how isolating it felt to be stuck out here during a storm, or having nothing to do on the weekends before I had my drivers license. I love this place and it will always be home to me...but only as a vacation spot.
My life in England has been wonderful--once I got used to it. It's still not 'home', but it's getting closer to that all the time. I'm at my school for the foreseeable future and I know that there are no teaching jobs available to me back in Canada...so, unless I want to return to my job at the feed & hardware supply store, it looks like England is my best bet for remaining successfully employed.
It's off for the final visits to friends & family and the last bits of packing. Some chores to do and a quiet evening to finish this holiday. What a long post this was...all sparked by a story told to me by my grandmother. Well, that should be all until I'm back on British soil (taking for granted it's not on fire or anything like that, thanks to the rioters). This was an awesome holiday and I've had an amazing 3 weeks here.
See you at Christmas, Canada.
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