Simpler Living: A year in review
By Fiona Wagner • Bankrate.com

"What made you move out here?" they'd ask.

"We bought a farm," we said.

"Do you know anything about farming?" they'd ask.

"No, but we're eager to learn," we'd say.

And that usually ended to the conversation and prompted a skeptical look that we later learned meant "stupid city folk."

Looking back, it probably didn't help that we started adding livestock to the farm only three months after our arrival. First, it was 10 chickens. Then a couple of donkeys (to protect the future sheep, of course). Then one goat, then two more, as the first goat was lonely. By Christmas, we'd rescued a geriatric thoroughbred horse who needed a retirement home.

We were fortunate in that our farm was already set up to house this motley crew of creatures. Of course, that plus was also our Achilles heel. We had this lovely barn that had been abused and unloved for years -- it seemed like such a shame for it to stay empty.

But then, perhaps it's like starting a family when you're young -- in a sense, you grow up together. And for us, there was no way to ease into this life gracefully. We couldn't afford to keep a city and country home, but more importantly, we didn't want to. As I wrote in that first column, "It's not enough to want to move to the country: You have to need to leave city life behind."

The life we've brought here
Whenever my dad comes up to visit from the city, he likes tinkering around in the barn. On one of his visits, while standing in the dusty feed room, surrounded by the cacophony of bleating baby goats, ornery ducks and a crowing rooster who had recently discovered his voice, he turned to me with a look of marvel on his face and said, "It's amazing what you've done here. When you moved here there was junk everywhere. Now look at it. Look at all the life you've brought to this place."

And therein, despite all the challenges, lies the biggest reward of our move to the country -- the life that we've brought here. It's more than just the animals, or the apple trees we planted with names such as Freedom and Liberty, or the garden bursting with dozens of kinds of vegetables or the nature walks we take with out kids. We're a part of this place, and it's a part of us. We're not locals yet, but one day I hope we will be. 

A year ago, I wrote that things that were once extraordinary are now part of our ordinary. It's more than that now. Over the past year, we've travelled back to the city, but it doesn't take long before we pine for the country. It's a physical need as well as a mental one. As I round the last corner on the dirt road leading to our driveway, I can feel my shoulders drop and my breath deepen. I am still in awe of the beauty of this place and the fact that I get to call it home.

Fiona Wagner [www.fionawagner.com] is a freelance writer living in Hastings County, Ont.