I grew up in quaint New England where a historic site or colonial town centre could be found most towns and a twenty minute drive to Yale would satiate our love for old, settled, ivy walls. Jordan and I spent several of our dates picnicking in or walking through the city of New Haven because there is really nothing like it. It’s the kind of city that has its JCrew and Apple store situated amongst stone facade buildings and a brick-walk intersection. Where Autumn is the best time to visit because you may just be mistaken for a Yalee and asked where the Jonathan Edwards Building is or otherwise have to avoid getting whacked in the head by a frisbee because the stereotype is true.
Where we live in Ontario is like nothing I’ve known. I find Ontario breathtaking and love the summer and fall months the most. My husband was raised on a three hundred acre farm, and I in a small suburban town. Connecticut is settled in such a way that there really is no room for growth. The commuter towns to New York City are now as they have been for years. But the growing pains for this area have just begun.
Beautiful farm land is being purchased to soon be interrupted by rapidly growing suburban housing. These towns are not quite city and no longer rural. But “suburb” doesn’t seem to describe it either. These new neighborhoods are packed like sardines in a can. A short getaway to my in-laws farm is always so good for the soul!
But sometimes I crave a little taste of home. So on Friday, when it was raining, we got in the car and drove to a historic township with a name you could hug it’s so cute. And there we toured like tourists stopping by the blacksmith and bakers homes on the one main street, and rolling down the window to take pictures. The town was originally settled by a Pennsylvanian…and it did my Eastern heart well.