Preserving Americana

This past week was Carnival Days in our small town. I wasn't sure what to think as the event approached. For some reason, I couldn't imagine a bunch of huge, brightly colored carnival rides filling the few streets of this town. I was even more surprised when I learned that it's also a three day event. (Keep in mind, I'm not a huge fan of carnivals...from the people to the rides themselves, I'm just a little freaked out by the whole thing.)

But on the first night, we loaded up our kids in sweatshirts and jeans and an umbrella and away we went. Games for kids kicked off the event and we had a blast. I love watching my children make new friends. It seems so easy at the age of five. Following the games, we hit the rides and games. I felt like a mom who's got it all figured out, it was a postcard-perfect evening.

The next night was much of the same. Grandma's and grandpa's, parents, relatives and friends watched as their kids raced around from ride to ride, sometimes with their friends, sometimes with an adult...the magic was repeated again the third night.

What I realized this morning after finally catching up on some sleep is that it wasn't just a carnival. It was a clear and perfect example of how this town is working to preserve something very special. It's about families spending real time together. A community coming together to celebrate just being there. Enjoying this "Good Life" that Nebraskans supposedly live by. And in this case, it was very true. That 50's type of nostalgia isn't dead here. In fact, it's very much alive and I'm so excited to be apart of it, and raise my kids in it.

Doing the wave.

Growing up in a farm community, waving to people as they passed by was second nature. I never really thought twice about it. A few fingers or the whole hand, it all depended on how you were driving or what you were doing when they drove by the house. But we always waved.

Thirteen years later, it's time to get friendly again. Since moving up here, I've noticed that if you see a 23 or 26 county vehicle, you wave. After all, there's a ninety-five percent chance that whoever is in that car will be waving as well. So now, I place my hand on the steering wheel in a way that I know I can wave if I meet someone on the road. It sounds weird...even weirder to type it but it's true. Somehow I'm not sure a giant head nod is good enough. The even stranger thing is that I find it somewhat comforting to see people waving at each other. It gives me hope that maybe my kids will grow up knowing what it means to be friendly even if you don't know the person on the other side.

In fact, this past weekend a friend of mine came up to see how the country folk live. Keep in mind, this woman very rarely ventures off of the interstate. But her GPS got her here with no trouble. And the first thing out of her mouth was that people kept waving to her as soon as she pulled into town. I couldn't help but smile. She got her first taste of this simple, friendly little life that we're building here. And I was so glad that it was something as simple as a wave.

Oh, and if you're wondering if she reciprocated the wave...she doesn't wave at strangers.

Bringing back the friendship.

My husband and I have had more date nights in the last four months than we have over the last six years of marriage...or at least the last five (I spent our first year pregnant with our son so we may have had a date or two). A wonderful thing about small towns or rural areas in general is that teens still babysit.

When we lived close to a metro area, a majority of girls, once they reached 16 anyway, worked in the city. There were very few babysitters and those that were around were not available very often. And living hours from family took the grandparent card right out of the equation.

So here we are, with an abundance of babysitters, and what's more, a mom stopped me the other day to let me know that her daughter is turning 13 this month and would like to babysit my kids. (can you hear the angels singing, too?) Between grandpa needing a grandkid fix and these sitters, I'd say my husband and I have a chance to put a little more friendship...if not romance...back into our lives. And maybe, just maybe, we'll find something to talk about other than our kids.

Seats available.

We've been here for about four months now. And I can't say that the adjustment has gotten any easier. I still have days that I bask in my newfound freedom to set my own schedule, hit the open road and discover my new surroundings. But then, there are just as many days that I question everything. Who I am. What I was placed on this earth to do. And the biggie: did I just make the biggest mistake of my life?

Through the good and bad, what I hear and see more and more is how the population is dwindling. Houses sit empty. Businesses close. Schools are almost too eager to enroll your children.

And everyone let's me know how happy they are to see a young family move back.

What I've learned, I learned watching TV. By making this move, we are ultimately choosing to work in order to live. We are no longer living to work. Basically, we may be giving up bigger salaries but we're gaining greater freedom and a slower pace which allows us to breath deep and take more time to appreciate the small blessings that have.

So if you're tired of the rat race, we've got a seat with your name on it.