The truth of the matter is that we all knit from somewhere. Our place, wherever it may be, is woven into our stitches, perhaps not always visible with the naked eye, but it’s there all the same.
I live in the Middle of Nowhere. Seriously. I love it. Northern California. (And not the Northern California that’s right above San Francisco. We’re way north of there…like almost all the way to Oregon.) It’s gorgeous here. We have the Trinity River, which is crystal clear with world class swimming holes and great fishing spots. There are little organic farms and wineries tucked away here and there. It’s so idyllic. And rugid. This place is beautiful. It takes my breath away every single day.
We are so blessed with such a beautiful home. Each year, our vegetable garden is huge! We garden nearly year round. We planted sixteen different types of tomatoes last year. Our yard boasts 20 fruit trees including peaches, nectarines, persimmons, apricots and more. Oh, and we have kiwis! And pomegranates! And figs! I typically can up a storm and quickly proceed to doubt the great myth of the modern homemaker. Why is standing over three giant pots of boiling water in my sweltering kitchen fun when it is 100 degrees out?
Plus there’s my flower garden. I could have a whole other blog dedicated to just my flower garden.
You get the picture. It’s paradise. We love it.
Unless I happen to be burned out on pulling weeds. It happens.
There are some challenges to living in the Middle of Nowhere. For example, it takes an hour to drive to a respectable grocery store over a scenic, twisty-turny highway with spotty cell reception. Also an hour to work. Each way. It’s an hour and fifteen minutes to drive to my yarn store.
Like I said, it’s remote. But I could do worse. I could have to fly in an Alaskan bush plane to get to the yarn store. So there’s that.
In this modern age, I truly don’t find rural living too incredibly limiting. I can find almost anything on Amazon and it ships to me “for free” in two days using Amazon Prime. Sometimes I don’t even have much reason to leave the house, except to visit friends and neighbors.
I love that we get to raise our child with so much room to roam. He gets to wander down the driveway and feed the neighbors’ alpacas, horses and goats. He finds sticks and pretends they’re fishing poles…gently wrapping poor, innocent worms around the tips to “bait his hook” before flinging the slimy creatures helplessly into the sticker bushes for his big cast. It’s a great place to live when you are two.
And it’s a great place from which to knit.