What's in a Name?

As I sit here, ready to compose my maiden post, I'm giving serious thought to the blog name I have chosen. For me, the name was a natural, because it is one we have used to describe the land around our home for years. However, for those who may have interest in reading this blog, the name I've chosen may seem a little strange, conjuring up images of rogue adventures on the vast prairie. I've learned that, under the Homestead Act of 1862, settlers were permitted to buy 160 acres of unoccupied land for $1.25 per acre, after having lived on the land for 6 months. The acres were laid out in four parcels of 40 acres each. "North Forty" is a reference to the northernmost 40 acres of land granted to those homesteaders.

The North Forty of which I write is actually the side yard of our home that lies, fittingly, just to the north of the house. When we bought our home almost 25 years ago we discovered a lot line just feet away from our new residence. As we did not want to be hemmed in by another house, we plunged further into debt to buy the adjoining lot. Hence, our North Forty was born.

The first order of business was to plant spindly pin oak trees around the perimeter of the house and North Forty, an act for which I am very grateful every day. Our property lies hidden away beneath the now towering oak trees which offer protection from the summer sun, a sense of enclosure for our space, enchanting red and golden fall color, and much brown material for the compost pile.

The rock-strewn-clay-soiled North Forty has undergone a massive evolution over the years. Buckets full of rocks have been hauled off the property, while truckloads of topsoil and compost have been shoveled into it. Trees, shrubs, flowers, and vegetables have been planted and replanted. Patios and walkways have been built and rebuilt.

The expanse has seen toddlers scamper across it on their way to the Eagle's Nest, a wooden play structure, long since dismantled. Young boys played baseball and built snow forts there. High school golfers perfected their short game, leaving only a few divots to show for it, plus one broken dining room window in a neighbor's house. Friends gathered for giant bubble-blowing contests on the Fourthf of July. My husband and I illegally burn leaves in the garden each fall, just for the almost forgotten smell of it.

The North Forty, represents, for me, the entirety of this gracious place I call home. Join me in this celebration of home and my never-ending search for inspiration as I continue to improve upon it. I'm hopeful you will make discoveries that will brighten your homes and lives.

Welcome, come in, make yourself at home, and enjoy The North Forty Chronicles.