Reflecting on a Rural Childhood

 

I’ve been living in the city for fifteen years this past summer. The occasion’s made me feel like looking back on my former home.
 
By the time my parents put our house up for sale in 2010, I hated Winchester with a passion! It was in the middle of nowhere, there was nothing to do aside from renting the occasional movie, and I was completely reliant on my family. While I was taking Scriptwriting, I took every single opportunity to stay in the city.

 
When the time came to move that summer, I missed parts of the house like our pool and my room, but I was overjoyed to become a city-dweller and permanent resident of Ottawa.
 
Eventually though, things happened that made me slowly start to appreciate my former rural existence. During Scriptwriting, I got a burst of interaction and communication on Facebook from people I’d gone to high school with more than five years earlier. I’d never been really social back then, so it was a nice and welcome surprise.
 
Second, and one of the few times I’ve seriously missed Winchester, was during the family’s first Christmas in the city. For many Christmases in the old house, I would spend part of the afternoon on Christmas Day laying on the floor of our living room, where we opened presents earlier that morning. I’d have a pillow underneath me, reading whatever large book I’d gotten (usually a Star Wars Essential Guide) munching on a bowl of whatever snack I’d gotten (Doritos or Clodhoppers). Our new living room, with its hardwood floor, made doing this pretty impossible.
 
The rural life sure had a lot of negatives, but I have to admit that I did have a good child/young adulthood. Lots of places to walk to, safely. School, for the most part, was okay. And the small town vibe was pretty nice. 

As I work towards my second decade in the city, moments like the ones above have given me a greater appreciation for where I grew up. 

Cheers