A long-held dream deferred... when will it be reborn?

Much water has flowed under the bridge since my last post on this blog, dated Sunday, July 11, 2010. Seven years is a long time in a human life, a full tenth of the "three score and ten" years we are traditionally said to be allotted. I am now 51 years of age, still single, and still working in a field which, while it has its own rewards at times, is neither what I am trained for nor what I would like to do. I have not given up my farm dreams, but they have been long deferred.

Among the more significant events of my recent life:

I have had something of a rebirth of my Christian faith – not that I ever abandoned it – and have in fact been ordained a Deacon, currently serving in the United Episcopal Church of North America. I have a small (very small!) mission parish in Westminster, Maryland, meeting at the Chapel of the United Methodist Church in town.

I was forced by economic necessity to sell my condo in early 2013 – as I had feared, at a loss. In retrospect, I should have sold it in 2010 and used the proceeds, such as they were, to fund my dreams. Hindsight is always 20/20!

I spent the year from 2013-2014 on Mount Desert Island in Maine, in many ways a wonderful experience, but it completed the drain on my finances that the economic crash of 2009 had begun. I have been struggling ever since. Still, I am grateful for my time on MDI, and if I could ever figure out a way to make it work economically, I'd be willing to go up there – or at least to Northern New England – again. I am currently back in my home state of Maryland.

After many changes of employment – and one scary extended period of unemployment – I am now working as a driver education instructor. It has, as noted above, its share of rewards, but it is not something I needed a B.A., Masters, and years of experience in outdoor and environmental education, sustainable agriculture education, conservation education, and natural and cultural history interpretation to work at. Making it all the more challenging for me, as someone who loves both rural and wilderness areas, it is in a largely urban environment, right on the edge of Baltimore City.

This is not what I want to be doing, and it is not at all where I want to be doing it! I am grateful to have a job, but that does not mean this is an ideal situation, by any stretch of the imagination.

I would like to finish my life surrounded by woods and fields, growing at least some portion of my own food and hunting for more of it, in a place where the sky gets dark at night and where I am surrounded by people who are basically similar to me. I've had enough "multiculturalism" and "diversity" – as currently practiced by the socio-political Left – to last me a lifetime!

Whether, when, and where this will come to be, remains to be seen. I'm considering options as far as the Mountain West (Colorado, Wyoming, Idaho, Montana) and as near as the "Buckeye State" of Ohio. The latter might actually be preferred in some respects; though lacking the dramatic scenery and majestic Elk, Bison, Wolves, and Bears of the Western states, it is more familiar to me, ecologically, and likely better for a small farm. I am, when it comes down to it, very much like a Hobbit, as described by J.R.R. Tolkien:

"Hobbits are an unobtrusive but very ancient people, more numerous formerly than they are today; for they love peace and quiet and good tilled earth: a well-ordered and well-farmed countryside was their favourite haunt."

 As it is mine! Though, like Bilbo Baggins and his nephew Frodo, I do enjoy an adventure, from time to time, to the Misty Mountains, the Vale of Rivendell, or the Plains of Rohan... He goes on to add:

"They do not and did not understand or like machines more complicated than a forge-bellows, a water-mill, or a hand-loom, though they were skilful with tools. Even in ancient days they were, as a rule, shy of 'the Big Folk,' as they call us, and now they avoid us with dismay and are becoming hard to find. They are quick of hearing and sharp-eyed, and though they are inclined to be fat and do not hurry unnecessarily, they are nonetheless nimble and deft in their movements...

"As for the Hobbits of the Shire, with whom these tales are concerned, in the days of their peace and prosperity they were a merry folk. They dressed in bright colours, being notably fond of yellow and green... Their faces were as a rule good-natured rather than beautiful, broad, bright-eyed, red-cheeked, with mouths apt to laughter, and to eating and drinking. And laugh they did, and eat, and drink, often and heartily, being fond of simple jests at all times, and of six meals a day (when they could get them). They were hospitable and delighted in parties, and in presents, which they gave away freely and eagerly accepted."

That is not a bad description of me, all told! At any rate, I am in conversations with two friends, one who is considering a move out West, and the other who already lives and has a farm in Ohio. We shall see what the future holds!