Don't get me wrong ... our house in the Catskills was a 1903 farmhouse, but it had been completely rehabbed by a recent owner, and it had all the amenities. Inside it looked like a new house with a modern kitchen, wall-to-wall, all that good stuff, although it did have a hulking woodstove to augment the (expensive) electric baseboard heat, and the indoor plumbing was fed by a pump system that drew ice-cold mountain water from our own private spring. So it was a nice combination of old and new.
Scenic? In a soft, closed-in Appalachian kind of way. It was pretty, but even though my home town (Louisville) isn't that far from another stretch of Appalachia, it's flatland, and we found the steep hills all around us kind of pinched us in and made the short northern winter days seem even shorter. That part was depressing, and so was the overall economic depression of the region. On the other hand, we found a delightful social group in the crowd of granola-crunching, tree-hugging types that were involved with a tiny local public-radio station run entirely by volunteers, and that became a big part of our life for a couple of years. I did a classical DJ gig that I loved just about more than any paying job I've ever had.
Ultimately, though, we sold the house to another pair of starry-eyed suckers and moved back to NYC, and didn't regret it for a minute. And when we then got Gotham out of our systems, we moved back to Louisville and now appreciate our home town more than ever. :)
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