Musings of a tenderfoot
How’re you gonna keep her down on the farm after she’s lived in L.A.
June 13, 2008: I stared at my cell phone. The red “No Service” line cut across the reception icon like an open wound.
The last time I’d seen that display was when I was trying to illuminate a stalactite hanging from a primordial ceiling
deep in the bowels of Crystal Cave, South Dakota. But, I wasn’t in a cave; I was on a road – a paved road and I had
just passed 6 houses and a Motor Home that had “Rent Me” painted on its sides. That meant people lived here.
People need to communicate right? AND, it was 20 miles into
“town” – where I came from there was no way anyone
would get into a car and drive 20 miles without a cell phone – there had to be service. The committee in my head
chimed in: Calm down Carol – we’re pretty sure the cell phone outage is just a minor glitch. Ok, ok, deep breath.
They’re right; besides, the farm is just a few miles down the road – worse case scenario if anything happens like
a flat tire, or an half-crazed caribou running amok from black fly infestation and hurling itself through my windscreen
(I watch the Discovery Channel), I might be able to walk that far - if I wasn’t killed outright that is.
I was almost there. I had put 1900 hundred miles of freeway behind me and a life I had lived in Southern California
for over 22 years. A good life. And now I was a bend in the road away from the start of something new and completely
different. How different – I had no idea. A farm.
April 2010: That recollection of my arrival here was almost 2 years ago. Since then not only have I driven to town without
my cell phone, I rarely use it because we don’t have service in the Upper Squamish Valley. I can round up horses, clip
chickens wings, drive a tractor, and tomorrow I’m going to collect fiddlehead ferns and deep fry them. Pretty good for a
city girl from Southern California don’t you think? So, if you have any interest in farm life from the perspective of a
citified tenderfoot – watch this space.