#midsouth

   I know for a lot of you, living in the middle of “no where”with a little garden and chickens is a beautiful life goal. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to make you feel any less. I just need to get it out somewhere, how much I mss home. 

   When I was 18, I left the farm. It wasn’t by choice. A tornado threw an ancient oak on our home and I didn’t want to be a financial burden to my grandparents. I went out West and lived in the desert for about two years. Now I’ve lived in the Caribbean for another four. Everyone back home thinks it’s the dream, of course, but I was never meant for this kind of life. 

   I’ve gotten engaged and had kids now, I can’t just go back home. I have to save enough money for that, but it’s hard to find work on a poverty-ridden island, especially with two toddlers. It’s just a fact of life. I find odd jobs when I can.

   I miss so many things. I miss waking up just before dawn to the smell of coffee and seeing the dew and fog on the acres outside. I’ve never liked coffee, but I’ve always loved the smell. Eating an orange while watching the sun rise is so peaceful. Going out to feed the animals and wish them good morning, wearing a sweater even in June because honestly dew is cold! Checking for eggs and making them for breakfast, hearing the bacon from the neighbour’s pig sizzling while I read a book from the massive library we own. No... really.... I’ve not seen the walls of our home since we moved in 15 years ago, my grandmama has floor to ceiling in every room lined with books of all sorts. 

   Making my bed with those darling quilts I miss so much. You know, the patchwork ones? Sweeping, dusting, vacuuming, washing windows, practicing piano while waiting for the grass to dry. Maybe running up te road to the supply store for something we need and breathing in the scent of fresh mulch. Can you believe I miss the smell of animal poop?

   Picking up all the fallen sticks and starting the fire. Cutting the grass and raking up all the shreds and leaves to add to it. I’m not sure why we never composted, but I’ll do it when I’m home. Watering the plants and making sure the deer didn’t bust the chicken wire again. Checking on the chickens to make sure a fox didn’t get at them. Checking on the blueberry bushes, the grape vines, and the mulberry tree. Giving the neighbour’s donkey and goats rubs. Checking on the pear tree because somehow it bears fruit even after “death". Checking on the bee tree and all around to make sure if any have fallen they can be aided properly. Running the neighbour’s hog off our land.... again..... and the cows, too. It’s usually safer to call him to come round them up, though. 

   Sitting on the porch swing midday and just taking it all in. The sounds of the crickets, the grasshoppers, the animals, the wind rustling the grass and leaves... the smell. Especially when the grass is freshly cut or the rain is coming in...... Fireflies. I cried during Secret Life of Pets 2 because of how much I miss fireflies. Basking in the warmth of the sun. 

   Eating made-from-scratch dinner *as a family* and heading to bed after a card game/board game/puzzle because that was really it... and being grateful for it.

   Hell, I miss the clothes. It’s too hot here to wear anything other than a tank top and a skirt, 12 months a year. I miss my hat and my boots and my ridiculously decorated jeans. I miss sweaters and belts and gloves and picnic dresses. I miss monogrammed shirts and getting a tshirt for EVERY event you went to and that being your entire wardrobe. I miss riding horses and watching barrel races. I miss seasons. I really, REALLY miss Autumn and everything that comes with it. 

   I miss feeling close to my ancestors. I miss the lessons I learned. I miss feeling real. I miss the silence.