Just over seven months ago, I married a country boy who lived in a town I had never heard of before meeting him. At a bridal shower hosted by my future mother-in-law's good friends at the Washington Woman’s Club, I met several girls who introduced themselves as “NFW’s.” This is how I learned that I too, was an NFW: Not From Washington. This is the summary of what all took place as soon as I said "I do", packed up my life and moved to the country:
- Job as a clinical dietitian with lots of great co-workers to being a housewife in the country
- Cute, historical cottage I had spent the last two years decorating to a bachelor pad with drop ceilings and faux wood paneling
- Close to my family to close to his family
- Friends within walking distance to "I know I've met them but what was their name again?"
- Gym, tennis courts, and hiking trails on a gorgeous historic campus to an overgrown farm with a broken tractor, snakes and coyotes.
- "My dogs are like people" to "Dogs belong outside"
- My own bathroom + guest bathroom + utility bathroom to “Oh my gosh I didn’t know men lived like this!” bathroom +creepy basement bathroom that I’m sure hasn’t been used in a decade
- Hosting eight course dinner parties to hosting a yard sale
This November will be six months since Reid agreed it could be fun for me to bake some things to take down to the Washington, GA Farmer’s Market. I think sensing my surprising loneliness (we were newlyweds, right?), Reid knew it was a good idea for me to “get out of the house." I was sick of trying to unpack boxes and a little more than overwhelmed by everything I saw that needed to be done in my “new home.” I felt myself becoming really, really homesick for my little cottage in Warm Springs where everything was how I wanted it- right down to the china closet and dormer room. I missed how the sheriff would bring my dogs back if they wandered off and how the ladies at my favorite antique store would leave me a note on my door whenever they got some milk glass pieces in. I missed my neighbors stopping over every day to go on a walk or cook with me. I missed my family history there, my community there, and my place there.
Bolstered by Reid's support, I tried thinking of a little business name and ideas for what to bake. I mentioned it to my so creative and oh so awesome older brother who immediately designed a logo for the extra labels I had leftover from my wedding. Then my, "all the marketing you would ever need in Washington, GA" mother-in-law e-mailed half the town that I would be at the market. Reid stayed up late with me, keeping the dishes washed and wrapping all the treats late into the night. We loaded up the car early in the morning and I headed off to town to sell scones, pound cakes, brownies, cookies and yeast rolls from a folding table. I had never actually sold anything I had made in my life and was so nervous. I was only comforted by the fact that if I didn't sell a thing then at least I would have plenty of simple carbohydrates for the emotional eating that would follow while I searched for another clinical job.
Instead, I came home from the market that first Saturday exhilarated. I got out of the car and was literally jumping up and down, hugging Reid, saying "Oh my gosh! Honey, people actually bought stuff!!"
That very first Saturday I had gotten to do things I loved all morning long-meeting other vendors, talking to market customers about ingredients, and enjoying the feeling of accomplishment you get when you work hard. Over food, I found that sense of community and place in Washington I had missed so much about my life in Warm Springs. The market has since continued to provide that connection that sharing a good meal together always brings.
Since then, “Southern Scratch” has become one of the most fun and challenging endeavors either of us have ever undertaken. We are learning to work together in everything from our farm to our family as friends, spouses & business partners. I pray every Friday night not to "snap" when I'm trying to get everything on my order & bake list filled. Slowly but surely I'm making the bachelor dream home into a comfortable farmhouse so we can welcome friends and family. We look around at all there is to do on the farm and are overwhelmed (this time in a good way!) by how much God has blessed us by giving us so much work to do.
And while Reid may have grown up here in Wilkes County and I will always be “Not From Washington,” I couldn’t imagine a better town to live in when you’re starting from scratch!
