Inside: We could really use some rain, when farm supply goes suburban, and a tale of two counties.
We Could Really Use Some Rain
If you reside in a rural area and you’re in the vicinity of farm people, during dry periods you’re likely to hear, “We could use some rain.” In my neck of the woods it’s been dry. Not drought dry, mind you, but dry enough. So imagine my delight when Mom and I were disassembling the Hillbilly Christmas Wreath (not to worry–like Frosty, it will be back for Christmas) and I stepped in mud. Yes, mud. I delighted in it, actually. Enough rain to make some slippery brown spots–if only on the surface. Still, I’ll take what I can get.
What’s interesting about rain is there usually isn’t a mediocre position concerning whether you are for or against it. Really depends on the steady diet of either too much or too little. So some years–take 1993, for example–you were just as likely to hear “I really wish it would stop raining.” Granted, rain can mess up some lovely outdoor events, like weddings and picnics and baseball games, so it’s always wise to have a plan B. Or it can delay planting season for both the home gardener and the farmer who depends on the timeliness of rain to make a living. My family has dealt with these circumstances for years.
At any rate, the word on the county road (as opposed to street) is “We could still really use some rain.”
When Farm Supply Goes Suburban
So we forgot to pick up some cracked corn from town the other day, and I noticed we were getting woefully short. When the weather is especially cold, it’s good to feed the chickens cracked corn in their diet to help keep them warm. We generally feed it through the winter months and phase it out come spring.
Not wanting to make a special trip to town, coupled with the fact our normal Monday shopping and coffee excursion is likely to be interrupted by snow this week, I was trying to figure out a way to get some corn. In St. Charles County (heavily suburban), of all places. Because that’s where we head on Saturdays for church. All hope seemed lost (aside from going way off the beaten path to Rural King in Wentzville) that we’d find such a place until Hubmeister mentioned there was a new Farm and Home Supply in St. Peters. Cottleville proper, actually.
Why not, I thought. I was in the mood for a mini adventure. So we headed there and entered the building to the irritating beat of pop music from the 90s. Not exactly the proper mood music for farm supply stores, which really should have something twangy playing in the background. Not that I’m a fan of country music, either, but it’s all about what’s fitting and appropriate for the customer. Except that nearly half of those in said store were of the suburban variety. So maybe irritating pop music from the 90s is fitting here? And, if I’m being honest, I wasn’t exactly dressed very rural at the moment, either. Looks can sometimes be deceiving.
The inside of the store reminded me of a cross between Cabella’s and Orscheln, and only time will tell if they’ll survive in this environment.
Most importantly, we were able to find the cracked corn.
A Tale of Two Counties
But all that brings me to something that’s been a recurring issue in my life–feeling like I live in two counties. Grade school and much of life in those days was spent in Lincoln County, (much more rural) with the occasional jaunt to St. Charles. But at some point we switched churches, heading into the county below us (St. Chas). High school was also south over the river–we actually live on the border, determined in part by the path of the Cuivre River.
Then I met my one and only love of my life who also lived–you guessed it–in St. Charles County. The church we’ve been attending for thirty plus years (and where Hubs works) is there as well. So while I am rural to the core and dwell in rural Lincoln County, those who meet me in St. Charles are often surprised to discover I live on a farm. Not that I’m trying to be something I’m not. Just that I’ve been around the people of the burbs so often that I can speak like a native. And, admittedly, the stubborn opposition to change, such as continually voting down a county-wide library system is annoying in my home county. Across the river is one of the best county library systems in the nation, I’ve been told.
Yet thirteen years ago I was adamantly against paving the then gravel Sycamore Bend Road. And I’m still not happy about it. So now who is being stubborn?
Truth is I do a good bit of living in each place, meeting folks both alike and different than I am. Makes for a more interesting life, and for that and many more reasons I am thankful.
Make no mistake, though. This girl is rural through and through.
What’s going on in your neck of the woods? Tell me about it in the comments.
Related posts:
Surviving Frost, Roasted Bean Mondays, and Other News Fresh From the Farm
Swirling Patterns of Blackbirds, Posing, and Other News Fresh From the Farm
Second Snows, Our Top Ten, and Other News Fresh From the Farm