Country Roads. Take Me Home. Please.

I realize it’s the weekend and you might be reading this over breakfast or while curled on the couch, but can I possibly entice you into sending me your thoughts? I could use some advice.

When I left West Virginia for Georgia five years ago, I knew I’d eventually return. Last year, after Don and I purchased an old warehouse in Hinton, WV, we’ve been feeling an even greater sense of urgency.

Little things keep ratcheting up our desire to go back.

For instance, we just made a quick trip from Atlanta to Ohio for my niece’s wedding, which required passing through West Virginia, which required a stop at Tudor’s Biscuit World. I’m still hobbling around in my post-surgical boot, so as I was approaching the door at Tudors, a pair of strangers raced to hold it open while another insisted I get in front of her in line. Courtesies I have not experienced in Atlanta.

Last summer, when Don and I had car trouble in Hinton, so many people stopped and offered to help. We didn’t have to seek them out. They just came. Last month, when Don and I were in a giant parking lot in Atlanta and our truck wouldn’t start, we raised the hood, expecting we’d be there for ages. Instead, in mere moments, a man came over to help — a West Virginian who just happened to be traveling through the area.

Several times every week, I awaken to Don watching YouTube videos of old Sternwheel Regattas or Vandalia Gatherings or videos people have filmed where they’re simply driving down random WV roads.

He’s homesick. As am I.

It feels like it’s time.

But it’s the how that has me hung up.

Don works remotely. He could move from one state to another with barely a blip. Pack his Mac and a squirrel and a few hoodies and he’s up and running again. It’s not so simple for me.

In my day job, I’m an executive assistant. While I could try to continue that type of work in Hinton, I doubt there’s much demand in a town of 2,200.

Some sort of remote work would be a dream since it would enable an easier transition from Georgia to West Virginia, yet the deeper I immerse myself in researching remote opportunities, the greater my fear that there are more scammers than actual jobs. How do you know which are legitimate and which are just mining for personal information?

I had been toying with the idea of becoming a realtor — something I’ve long wanted to do — but am told my timing is bad. The market is now saturated with realtors and increasing interest rates have the home buying bubble about ready to burst.

I’m not chasing after a big paycheck or hoping to climb the ladder or longing to have some fancy title. What I most hope to do is something where I could make some sort of a difference, effect some sort of change. Improve someone’s life. Yet I don’t have the education to step into that world in any way I’m aware of, nor the time and money required to pursue a degree.

I don’t know what to do or where to start and could use some advice.

We’ve been gone too long already. We want to come home.

So, I thought I’d stop to ask for directions. Hoping to find the way to those country roads. To take us home.

To the place we belong.



Karin Fuller is a newspaper columnist and short fiction writer who resides in both Atlanta, GA, and Hinton, WV.

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Karin Tauscher Fuller

Karin Fuller is a newspaper columnist and short fiction writer who resides in both Atlanta, GA, and Hinton, WV.