Up the Where the Road Bends… A story from the life of Jessica Marie I hopped in my little red car, my Mom tagging along as she enjoys little marketplace excursions. We hit the road for a nearby town. We chatted about the usefulness of the supplies we were about to get. Sure, they were sheep supplies, and we didn’t have any sheep, but there were other supplies in the box that could prove useful in the future no matter what livestock we may get. We found the home with a beautiful, large, red barn just like the ones you see in pictures. I parked under a large, low hanging tree that reached over the gravel driveway. I walked up the front steps which showed signs of age as well as a lack of use. Clearly the occupants used the garage or barn entrances over the front door. After knocking on the blue door I could see movement on the other side of the glass panel in the door overlaid with a white lace curtain. A kindly, elderly woman named Janet answered as we exchanged pleasantries. She held a small box in her hands. She set the box on the porch and pushed her shoulder length white hair out of her face. She showed me everything in the box that she had owned for her sheep. She informed me that nothing in the box had been used in about fifteen years. But that didn’t bother me as most of these tools were metal or still sealed in original packaging and would last even longer than that. We chatted about sheep and goats, my research on trying to decide which manner of livestock would work best for us. She told me her story of how she came to own sheep. When she and her husband had first moved into the neighborhood they had held a housewarming party. A neighbor had come and Janet told this neighbor that she and her husband were considering getting sheep. The party ended, a month passed and this conversation was almost forgotten by Janet. Until this neighbor called unexpectedly to inform Janet that her sheep were ready. Surprised, as this was not her plan, she went with it and took the three sheep in. This led to her keeping and breeding sheep for several years before retiring from the sheep keeping world. She had found this box of supplies in the barn the other day and decided they would do someone else more good than collecting dust in her barn. I told her she was right and I greatly appreciated her time. As I was descended the three steps down the front porch she asked if I knew Dana Moore. Dana bred goats for both cashmere and milk. I told her no, omitting the part of my having only moved to the area in February. She told me just up the way where the road bends, just past the post office and near the local farm was Dana Moore who raised goats. She said if I happened to be driving by, I could stop in one day and talk to Dana about goats. I thanked her for the information. Half of owning livestock is knowing the right people and having knowledgeable associates in one’s corner to call for advice or stock if needed. I took my box of newly acquired materials and knowledge to the car. As we pulled out of the driveway, I told Mom about this Dana Moore. Mom and I took a look at each other and said, ‘let’s go find her.’ We turned left at the stop sign instead of right and set off to try and find Dana. We followed the road and sure enough the road did curve to the left. We found the post office on the right. We drove for a way past a place that looked like a local farm but couldn’t tell where Dana and her goats lived. I pulled over in a nearby driveway to turn around. Saddened at not being able to find this woman as it felt a bit like a quest at this point, when a neighbor walked down his driveway. I called out to him from my car, asking if he knew where Dana and the goat farm was. Sure enough he did! He told us we had passed it and gave us directions to her house. I wrote down her address in my notebook for future reference. I didn’t have any specific questions just yet, and I didn’t want to show up unannounced without at least a proper list of intelligent questions to inquire about goat keeping. But when the time was right, I would be able to say that Janet sent me. We then headed back for home. Laughing about our little quest to find Dana with the goats and the turn of events that led us there. We pulled up to another stop sign in the small nearby town. Directly to our right on the corner was the town library with a sign boasting of a book sale. They were open for another 30 minutes. Mom and I looked at each other and immediately agreed to check it out. I promptly turned into the parking lot. Having made no disruption to traffic as not a single car was on the road in any direction. We ascended the steps to the small, white, traditional style library building. In the foyer were about a dozen books not apart of the library, we assumed this consisted of the book sale. We paused to peruse the modest selection as the librarian approached. She informed us the basement was full of books for the book sale and we could acquire a library card if we wished. Libraries are one of the best resources so we quickly joined the town library that is but fifteen minutes from home. The small-town library did all record keeping traditionally, on paper. The library card is hand filled out and each item checked out is recorded manually into a card box. Mom is a fan of Karen Kingsbury and found she had a new book recently released and quickly collected it for check-out. I descended the stairs to the basement and found it was in fact filled with books for sale. As well as projects that the local youth were working on as part of the libraries’ summer program for kids. I moved through the aisles soaking in the presence of so many books both here and above. It was small, but the fact that libraries exist and service even this far out is a beauty in my eyes. I found a book to purchase and quickly ascended the stairs to pay before they closed. The librarian was friendly, helpful, and happy to have more members to look forward to their return. I took one last look around the single room library. Adults’ fiction and non-fiction on one side, childrens’ on the other, movies and new releases in the middle, the librarian desk in the center of the room. Taxidermy geese and owls of local species dotted the walls. One owl was decorated per season. As it was summer, he wore sunglasses and a hat. Come fall he’ll don a scarf I was informed. I paid for my book while Mom finalized her check-outs and we strode out the screen door and down the steps with the library closing in but a few minutes. A few cars slowly rode by on main street as we walked to the car with our newly purchased and borrowed goods. A convenience store across the street boasting several patrons as we pulled out of the parking lot and continued our ride home. We began to laugh at the turn of events of the evening. A better or more entertaining hour and a half we hadn’t had in awhile. Going for sheep supplies then searching for Dana and her goats, finding a book sale, and joining the library. I felt like I had found a new town with side quests to complete and enjoyed every moment of it. We are learning how to settle into a new place, making connections and finding new places to visit is part of the adventure of moving. It takes time to truly become embedded into an area, but evenings like this made the process that much more enjoyable
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AuthorJessica Marie Cunningham - Intentional lifestyle blogger, aspiring author, and podcast host. All things Slow Living, Books, Writing, Art, creativity, Christianity, and personal stories. Archives
March 2022
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