Country life is unforgiving
By PAT WICK
© Another Day in the Country
The country is harsh and unforgiving," said my sister, shaking her head sadly at the word that our newest residents were leaving Ramona. "You make a mistake and people will never forget it!"
She's right! You can dream all you want of country living with idyllic notions of warmth, nostalgia, charm, camaraderie and simplicity (ala Mayberry RFD), but reality with its twists and turns, misunderstandings and mistakes, suddenly looms.
In the country, make a foolish mistake and you can lose your life. If you make a poor judgment call, you can lose your shirt. A series of bad choices and you've lost your reputation — which is probably your most important asset. And everyone knows!
In the country, there is no such thing as anonymity unless you are most assuredly a hermit — and then the populace will probably make up what they don't know. The penchant for talk in the country and the content of conversations is what fired our passion for writing in the Marion County Record.
"Country folk will talk, so let's give them good things to report to one another," we said. "Let's write about good deeds, good things, good news in Ramona and then the general tone of country chatter will be more positive." It isn't that negative things don't happen in our own little Mayberry. We just don't put it in print.
Country news doesn't really need a newspaper, however, to get around. If the sheriff drives over the railroad tracks, within minutes most everyone in town knows where he stopped and guesses why. Let your kids run without supervision or discipline them strictly and the whole town will have an opinion about your parenting skills or lack thereof.
Do a good deed, be charitable and kind, ask forgiveness for your mistakes, and we'll probably not hear a word of it. However, make a mistake, shoot off your mouth, or cross paths with the wrong person, and you will be the source of endless surmising and maybe even lawsuits.
We've sometimes wondered if a manual should be published on country living and a copy given to any newcomer in town. There would be all the numbers and names of whom to contact for utilities and hook-ups — things have definitely gotten more complicated since the days we first moved here when all you had to do was watch for Bob in the KPL truck and tell him you'd moved to town!
Perhaps there should be lists of folks to get to know and whom to avoid, tips on good neighbor policies, and lists of things country folk already know and just take for granted, like:
1. Don't drive on dirt roads after it rains.
2. Fix your roof before you fix the walls inside the house, etc.
"That's just common sense. Everybody knows that," says Tooltime Tim, our most practical country cohort.
"No, they don't," I counter. "City life is very different from country living."
When we first came to the country, we had our aunts and uncles as our handbook. We coasted on their reputation and had a safe haven under their wings. We still benefit from this kinship.
It's another day in the country and a recent move-in added this bit of advice for our mythical "Handbook for Potential Newcomers:"
"If you want to make a go of it here, feel like you belong, you'd better have someone buried in the cemetery."
