I’ve had more occasion to listen to the radio lately than I usually have (more on that later) and within a couple of days time I heard the phrase “the middle of nowhere” not once, not twice… but THREE times.
The first time I took note of it, a person was referencing an event in India. That’s most certainly the middle of nowhere. After all, only 1.417 BILLION people live there. So it makes perfect sense that someone in the United States (population 333 million) would consider that the middle of nowhere. It must be a perfect shock to our systems when one of those 1.4 billion people manages to do something notable.
After all, what are the odds?
And yes, I’m being sarcastic. Or maybe facetious. Or maybe just a little snarky. But that’s okay because I live in the middle of nowhere too!
There is Fruit in the Middle of Nowhere
Two of the other “middle of nowhere” comments were in reference to places in Iowa. In each instance, the individual was from one of the larger US cities and I am pretty sure neither one of them intended their comments to be disrespectful. Perhaps that’s even worse, because I suspect they really didn’t think about it at all. It’s just their default view of places like Iowa.
When you think about, I’m not sure you can use the phrase “middle of nowhere” without implying that there is something inferior about that location. Perhaps if you are talking about the area of space between Neptune and Pluto, the middle of nowhere might be an accurate description. But, anywhere else on Earth? I’m not sure it’s a positive description.
Part of me is actually fine if the vast majority of people think Iowa is not worth considering much of the time. If they keep thinking that way maybe they’ll stay away allow people like me our space. After all, there is a reason I live where I live and not India or New York City. If living “somewhere” has the requirement that there be lots of somebodies at that somewhere, then I think I’d really rather be right here - in the middle of nowhere.
Our little slice of nowhere has been producing a significant volume of edible treats over the past month. The tomatoes in Valhalla (our larger high tunnel) have been some of the nicest plants we’ve had at the Genuine Faux Farm. The broccoli plants are being generous with their sideshoots. And the fruit trees are rewarding us for years of effort.
The Iowa peaches finally gave us a nice bloom this spring and conditions were good for those blooms to set fruit. While these do not produce the large peaches that are grown in Missouri, Georgia or Colorado (among other locations that are potentially considered the middle of nowhere by some), we still enjoy consuming them. In my estimation, it takes three to five of these fruit to equal the volume of a larger peach. But, that’s okay because it’s easy to grab one after another, split them open, and eat them - half a peach at a time.
I think I’ve been munching on these for a few weeks now, much to my delight. I will be forever grateful to Jill Beebout of Blue Gate Farm for the seed from her trees in southern Iowa that became the trees/bushes at our farm. I know better than to expect this sort of production every year - but the mere hope that there is a chance this can happen in other years makes me a very happy person.
Our reliable Cortland apple tree was covered in apples once again. The quality of these apples fluctuates a bit from year to year depending on the weather and pest pressures. But once this tree started producing, it hasn’t failed to give us something every year since. And this year has been a fantastic year!
This is the tree that very nearly did not survive its first year on the farm. But it showed a special kind of resilience that only an apple tree can exhibit in the middle of nowhere. I suspect that, if it were somewhere of real importance, it would have decided that space was not the right place to be and it would not have recovered from the windstorm that took it down just weeks after it was planted.
We already reported in August that our pear tree rewarded us with its first significant harvest this year. Well, it seems that our Asian pears were jealous and wanted to get in on the act. While we did not get a huge harvest, we got one that has been big enough for us to enjoy the fruits (ha ha?) of our labors.
That’s one of the things about living in the middle of nowhere. We know that the long games of stewardship and caretaking require persistence, effort and patience. They also need healthy helpings of grace, forebearance and a certain tolerance for failure. But perhaps the hardest part is slowing down enough to recognize the rewards when they finally arrive.
Well, I’m noticing. And, I’m working harder to notice more and notice better.
Good things happen when you’re in the middle of nowhere.
Life in the Middle of Nowhere
Tammy and I were asked recently by a friend what new things were going on in our lives and I think we were both a bit taken aback. You see, we are both usually pretty good at asking others about their lives and are quite willing to listen. But, when someone asks us what is new, we are often at a loss as to what we should say. There either seems like there is too little… or way too much.
We’re just not always sure what would qualify as a significant event in the eyes of others who don’t live in the middle of nowhere like we do.
Still, there have been a number of things, more or less significant, that have been going on. Perhaps the most significant is that Tammy underwent surgery to replace a hip in the middle of August. The process went well and she is working very hard in the healing process. I have told anyone who will listen (or read) how proud I am of her efforts to move forward towards more mobility (see what I did there? “move forward towards mobility?” Ok, never mind.)
Anyone who has undergone, or had a partner undergo, a significant surgery knows how all-consuming these sorts of things are. The preparation and healing processes are difficult and important tasks for the person undergoing the procedure. And it is equally important to recognize the extra efforts of caretaking that the partner must perform - including performing all of the tasks for the farm and household that would usually be shared.
Let me say this. I hope I have always been grateful for all of the things, both big and small, that Tammy does. But, I can also truthfully say that I am twice and thrice thankful now as she picks up more and more of those things once again. It certainly has something to do with my NOT having to do some things - I will not lie. But, the gratitude is stronger more because she is now ABLE to do these things. Life in the middle of nowhere is much sweeter when we can both participate fully.
It’s especially sweet when your partner walks out to the peach trees just one month after hip replacement surgery and harvests peaches that you both can enjoy.
Life in the middle of nowhere. It’s where good things happen.
Thanks for sharing this sentiment, Rob. Yes, you're right where you and Tammy should be.
I live in rural Janesville; I have lived in much more densely-populated places. I like where I am now. When I need a touch of the big city, I can go there for a while but then return here to the peace and quiet of "the middle of nowhere". I enjoy this switching direction better than the other way -- living in a densely-urban setting and occasionally going to the country. (And contrary to some sources whose aim is to sow division, I've never considered my Iowa friends any less, or more, admirable than my coastal friends and I believe they feel the same about me, even with my Boston accent.)
"I suspect that, if it were somewhere of real importance, it would have decided that space was not the right place to be and it would not have recovered from the windstorm that took it down just weeks after it was planted."
LOL 😂😂😂