Everyone is Included.

Back in early spring, I had a friend comment on the invites hanging off my refrigerator.  Fully expecting her to say that the side of my fridge was a mess (because people it can get that way) I braced up to admit a thorough cleaning was needed.  It initially caught me off guard when she said "Oh you country people, you invite everyone to everything."  

I'll stop right there.  She did not say it condescendingly, she said it as a fact.  That country folks invite everyone.  If we are having a party, we might as well make sure it's a good one.  If our child makes it to graduation, darned tootin' we are having a party and the whole wide countryside, town people included will be invited.  Same goes for weddings and I'd argue funerals (even though invites don't go out for those - but we all know we need to show up).

Her comment about country people inviting everyone to everything has stuck with me now for several months.  I've pondered during quiet moments - because I really thought that is what all people did.  I thought we all invited our everyone to everything and I've never thought that was something that was viewed differently from city counterparts. But I guess it is.  

Why is it that those of us living out of town, on a farm, ranch, dairy or even a hobby farm think we should invite everyone to everything?  At first I thought there wasn't anything to it, but I've doubled back and decided it is not a coincidence.  I think it has to do with the perspective on the world, the remoteness of where we live. The wide spaces between neighbors can stretch miles and we still consider them close.  In town that's not the case.  Stretch out a few miles in a city and you're into a neighborhood you may never have even explored, let alone called the people living in it your neighbor.  That vastness of a space between us doesn't seem to change the fact that if you work with us, talk  to us, go to our church, buy our beef and garden vegetables or help raise our kids; you're our neighbor.   I'd also venture to guess that a farmer or rancher looks at life through a different lens than their urban counterpart.  That's not good or bad, that's just the hand we're dealt.  We see the fragility of life on the regular.  You don't understand what I mean?  Well, we've explained to our 3 year old why they watched us work hard and pull a baby calf, scrambling to clean it's mouth and nose and rub the life into it, only to be left with a dead calf and a mother looking for her baby.  We've seen the beauty of a corn field, lush, green and full of ears of corn one day, and come back the next to barren spikes sticking in the air as hail stripped the crop.  We've watched as fire raged through the home place and took the calving barn and we've seen the parts left of a baby calf, healthy one moment and snatched a moment later by a hungry coyote.  I hope, no I pray, that we all understand how fleeting life is; and that things can change in a quick minute.  

I do not mean to pick sides on this topic.  I can see how circumstances and surroundings could play into how wide the net is cast for social circles.  If I lived in a densely populated urban area, I know that inviting "everyone to everything" would not happen.  But I don't live that life.  I live a rural life, beyond that I likely can say I live a frontier rural life.  I cannot see my neighbors house.  I can't even drive to the end of my road and see my neighbors house and I don't have trees blocking the view.  The lesson in all of this seems to be this, don't assume that people do something because they want more people at a party or feel the need to get more gifts.  Inviting "everyone to everything" might happen because they truly know everyone, cherish the life of everyone around them and flat out enjoy having people around every once in a while.  We can't help it if it takes 'everyone' in the county to fill up the room, because we live in the middle of no where.