Requiem for a Prairie Town

or "Please keep sleeping long enough for me to write a blog post"


We live in a dying town (or will for a few more days, anyway).

Baby* and I went for a walk on mothers' day afternoon. We went down a quiet lane past a yard with a quaint old wooden fence and some ancient lilac and rose bushes. It seemed like a glimpse of a different time in this old town. As we neared the end of the lane I could hear some boys. As we rounded the corner I was surprised to see them on bikes. I honestly expected them to be rolling a hoop down the road with a stick. Really.

Our little town (yes, little. as in around 400 people) was founded in the late 1800s. It prospered in the early 1900s. I'm sure the 20s roared here as much as they did anywhere else. But it is now dying. And we aren't helping. We too are leaving for a place with more. More people, more conveniences. More paved roads.

The school here is kindergarten to grade six and has about 75 students. I have the feeling that when the school closes (notice I say "when" and not "if") that will be the last straw for this little town.

We will miss some things about it. Like our house. And the lady across the street. But there are so, oh so many things we won't miss at all...

-gravel streets
-the ridiculous price of milk
-driving to "Town" to go grocery shopping (due to the ridiculous price of milk...)
-revving engines of all sorts...dirt bikes, four-wheelers, snowmobiles
-the tiny neighbour kids driving the riding lawnmower. occasionally with a baby on their knee.
-neighbour shooting a pellet gun at ? birds? squirrels? small children?


So, the town keeps dying. But we won't be around to see it.




two more sleeps till we move.


*I have been thinking that Baby and Husband need better blog-names. Perhaps after we move I'll give it some thought.


ps. Baby is sleeping poorly again. We're just not sure what to do.