We are in the process of moving house - oh how much we have accumulated since having children!
We are moving from a rural property of a few acres that was attached to my husband's family farm (of a few hundred acres), to a new abode down by the sea. We will be able to hear the ocean, smell the salt, and walk a couple of hundred metres to feel the sand between our toes. The new house has a lovely big garden yard with established trees and a veg patch. I cant wait....
Life in the country has been a mixed bag for me. I had visions of morphing into Laura Ingles while wearing Laura Ashley, running carefree through a meadow of flowers. I had hoped I could channel alittle James Harriet and assist a cow calving or nurse a sick lamb back to health. What I wasnt prepared for was the isolation and loneliness. Farming isnt romantic like on Farmer Wants a Wife. One of the biggest things I've had to come to terms with was that the animals and machinery always come first, wife and children second. No holidays during hay season. No holidays during calving season. No plans for the weekend in case something needs doing on the farm. And I certainly wasnt prepared for the snakes to come to my front door, or a cow to run into the front yard, or horses galloping up the road with the wind in their mane!
Im a coastal person. I grew up in a coastal town. Went to school across the road from a lake. We went on holiday to places that required swimmers and a snorkle. Sunburn was a regular occurrence. The smell of Aero Guard meant summer and staying up alittle bit later in Daylight Savings. King tides were common, flocking down to the beach to see how the sand bars had changed after a big swell, having cars battle rust.
In a former life I travelled by train across Canada from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean. Although the journey only took 3 weeks, when I put my boot in the Pacific Ocean on a small beach in Vancouver, I had to fight back tears. The smell of salty air is what sustains me.
Im pleased that I will be able to offer my little ones the chance to make plenty of sand castles, start a shell collection, explore rock pools, and learn how to get the sand off their feet through artful brush actions before coming inside.
Thanks for the memories country. Im sorry we didnt really get along. I will always remember your intelligent sheep dogs and the unmistakable sound of a tractor engine. I'll speak kindly of you to those that enquire, but I will be leaving now. Bound for sandy soil. Goodbye.