About two and a half years ago, my grandpa decided to sell his farmhouse and a handful of the associated buildings. He kept the land, which is still farmed (last I knew for Lay's potato chips, actually), but the house and buildings are now owned by someone else.
At that point in time, I was still trying to figure out what to do with my life in the very most near-term sense of the word. My contract job at a bank had come to an end, and jobs were hard to come by in Charlotte. I didn't know what I wanted to do, but I knew I needed to make some money and to keep the gap between jobs on my resume from growing any larger.
Buying a farm was the last thing I ever thought about, having been raised primarily in cities, not knowing a thing about how to run a farm. There was also the not insignificant fact that I'm extremely averse to the cold, and this farm happens to sit in the middle of Michigan.
But as it went to auction on a weekend in 2009 that I was, ironically, visiting DC, I felt a twinge of remorse for not pursing the idea of buying the farm more seriously. Ultimately, though, as nice as it would have been really nice to keep the historic property in the family, I couldn't figure out how I would sustain myself financially.
As I now navigate the real estate waters of DC, having decided to move here not too terribly long after the weekend of the auction, I again feel those glimmers of "what if?" I generally consider myself a city girl at heart, and couldn't survive without public transportation, but there are times when I daydream awfully vividly about a simpler life full of space, clean air, silence, and a marked lack of "keeping up with the Joneses."
I know you probably think this all sounds a bit crazy, especially if you're also a decidedly city-leaning person, but just look at these beautiful pictures, and then you try to convince yourself that it wouldn't be nice to call the farm home.
Speaking of up and buying a farm, if you haven't heard of the book The Bucolic Plague, I suggest you get thee to a bookstore immediately. I read about it on a random blog, and then was in a Barnes and Noble killing time yesterday and spotted it on one of the feature tables. I picked it up and read the first few pages, and decided that even though I should wait until I was home and could download it on my Nook, I needed (yes needed) it right then. I ended up devouring the first 1/3 of it while sitting at a bar waiting for my friend to meet me for happy hour. It is hysterical. It's been a while since I've literally laughed out loud from any sort of written word, so I found myself especially thankful for the humor contained within.
At that point in time, I was still trying to figure out what to do with my life in the very most near-term sense of the word. My contract job at a bank had come to an end, and jobs were hard to come by in Charlotte. I didn't know what I wanted to do, but I knew I needed to make some money and to keep the gap between jobs on my resume from growing any larger.
Buying a farm was the last thing I ever thought about, having been raised primarily in cities, not knowing a thing about how to run a farm. There was also the not insignificant fact that I'm extremely averse to the cold, and this farm happens to sit in the middle of Michigan.
But as it went to auction on a weekend in 2009 that I was, ironically, visiting DC, I felt a twinge of remorse for not pursing the idea of buying the farm more seriously. Ultimately, though, as nice as it would have been really nice to keep the historic property in the family, I couldn't figure out how I would sustain myself financially.
As I now navigate the real estate waters of DC, having decided to move here not too terribly long after the weekend of the auction, I again feel those glimmers of "what if?" I generally consider myself a city girl at heart, and couldn't survive without public transportation, but there are times when I daydream awfully vividly about a simpler life full of space, clean air, silence, and a marked lack of "keeping up with the Joneses."
I know you probably think this all sounds a bit crazy, especially if you're also a decidedly city-leaning person, but just look at these beautiful pictures, and then you try to convince yourself that it wouldn't be nice to call the farm home.
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| Yes, I went through a dark hair phase. And yes, I know it was a bad look for me. I just enjoy the rest of this picture too much not to share. |
Speaking of up and buying a farm, if you haven't heard of the book The Bucolic Plague, I suggest you get thee to a bookstore immediately. I read about it on a random blog, and then was in a Barnes and Noble killing time yesterday and spotted it on one of the feature tables. I picked it up and read the first few pages, and decided that even though I should wait until I was home and could download it on my Nook, I needed (yes needed) it right then. I ended up devouring the first 1/3 of it while sitting at a bar waiting for my friend to meet me for happy hour. It is hysterical. It's been a while since I've literally laughed out loud from any sort of written word, so I found myself especially thankful for the humor contained within.
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