Small town living
Today is “Fall City Days” in my little town. I’m assuming at some point in its history, the festival was both days of the weekend, but these days it’s just one day. And it marks my one year living at this location.
I remember last year’s festival. I had only been here a couple of weeks and was still “recovering” from the sudden, unexpected move. The move itself was fraught with unneeded stress, and there was a lot of emotional decompressing still going on. I’d noticed in a local publication the mention of “Fall City Days” complete with parade and Duck Derby (though this was postponed to a later date due to unusually high, and dangerous, water on the river last year). The main drag through town (a state route highway) was actually closed, and the traffic to be diverted. Little did I realize…
So here I am, one year later, hunkered down and waiting for the day to pass. Fortunately the weather has turned, so now that it’s officially summer, the month of abnormally sunny days and warmth (summer in spring?) is over and we’re back to typical NW weather. The cooler, wet weather is good all around, and is soothing to me. And, hopefully it’s dampening the attendence to this down home street festival.
The traffic diverted from the highway is on a street adjacent to my house — basically one house over–and has been loud and busy all day with constant traffic and festival goers. My own street is closed, blocked off with a large “Steet Closed” barrier, as are all the downtown streets, from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. The festival goers still come down the streets looking for parking. Consequently the street is busy with families walking (laughing and talking, and excited “screaming” children) by, and parking out front. I have three strange cars out front, and constant slowdowns for the oh-so-tempting gap between parked cars left open for my driveway. I won’t be using the driveway today (at least until after 6 pm!) but I’m glad that common courtesy and adherance to law is prevailing!
So I’m here with the dogs, guarding them as they guard the house. They’re doing okay with the disruption–probably better than I am! All of this activity–noise, passersby–feels invasive and insidious. It’s not, of course, because people are keeping to the public roadway, but there’s no denying it intrudes on my personal sense of space. And it makes those remote, “north of nowhere” locations that already appeal to me , all that more appealing. I saw two properties listed this week that have me dreaming… Both are 40 acre parcels, and as gorgeous as I can imagine. One is remote. The other is remoter (just south of the Canadian border), but I’m ready to spend a weekend to go view both. Soon. One is an almost-100 year old homestead, built in 1914. The inside walls are wood plank that looks like it could have been milled right on the property. It has been kept up with the times by the look of it, with a new, metal roof (nice and steep for that winter snow to slide right off…) and a dishwasher in the kitchen. There are charming outbuildings that look as old as the home, including what looks like a sod house/sweat lodge built into a rise. Put a round door on it and it could be a hobbit home. I’d call it a root cellar except for the small chimney pipe you can see on one side of the mound. Nice. The other place has a large, newer home. Like 3,000 sq ft large –that’s about twice the size I need. Still I wonder about it…maybe I could take in boarders (I may need to, to tend the farm/livestock during the growing season, right?). Both have me salivating, even as I talk myself out of them. I mean really, they are sooo far out–why would I isolate myself like that? Well, perhaps Fall City Days provides the answer to that.
I’m going to “suit up” and dive in shortly, to head over to the library and post office to pick up my mail, and walk through town to check out the booths. Shields up!