All you need is love—and a plan

I am truly fortunate. I live in a great community. If I want to work, all I have to do is call my buddy Lynda, and she finds me a spot in one of her catering gigs or she calls me and tells me I have to work for her. In the 42 years I’ve lived in this community, it hasn’t been difficult to get a job here and there. I’m not career driven, so here and there works for me. Not everyone likes the “here and there” stuff. LOML was a career kinda guy. He taught for well over 30 years at the local high school. He loved his job. He loved the kids. He loved teaching. He retired a little bit early, for a number of reasons. One of those reasons was the number of young people graduating with degrees in education who could not find full-time work. He left to make room for them.

My own children have done their time, post-secondarily. However, they were not able to find work in their chosen fields here. We knew they wouldn’t, but hoped they would. LOML and I are jealous of people whose children are close by. My children are career driven and had to leave the County to find fulfilling work in their field. Oh sure, they could have stayed here and worked at two or three part-time jobs. One of those part-time jobs might have resembled their chosen field of endeavour but likely not. Like a lot of young adults, they just wanted full-time work. One job. One company. One location. Good wages and maybe a benefits package. No juggling hours and racing from one job to the next just to pay their rent and put the KD on the Melmac. Nope. When they left school they all decided (one by one) they had to leave this community. They loved it here. “Here” has the beaches. “Here” has family. “Here” has wide-open space. Some of their friends are still here juggling jobs, here. LOML et moi, we’re still here. What’s not to love about the County? But love doesn’t put a roof over your head. Love doesn’t put gas in the tank. Love doesn’t pay the piper.

Today, Sunday, working with my friend Lynda and her pals—Pizza Via owners Cheryl and Bob—I spoke to a lot of people who were visiting the County and who also loved it here. I said to them, “What’s not to love”. The younger folks, with beach sand in their undies and stars in their eyes, talked about selling everything, quitting their jobs in the city and moving to the country. “You have it so good here. You don’t know what it’s like to live in the city. Houses are so cheap here. We could buy a house and start a business here.” I like the enthusiasm of young people. “What kind of business did you have in mind?” I asked. Many of them didn’t have an answer or mumbled something about “perhaps a little coffee shop or a small restaurant or maybe something creative”. By the look on their faces, I assumed many of them hadn’t really thought it through. They were in the dream stage. The stage just before you fall out of bed and knock some sense into your head.

PrinceEdwardCounty is probably a bit “old heavy”. You know, lots of old farts like me, who don’t really need to work but don’t mind helping out here and there. But young folks visiting the area—such a the kids I spoke to on the weekend—don’t see past the scenery. They just don’t see how hard it will be for their generation to make a living away from the city. I must have sounded a bit curmudgeonly when I told one after another, “Make a plan. Don’t be rash. Save your money. Ask questions. Don’t dive in if you don’t know how deep the water is.” But what do I know, eh? I’m just a mom whose kids had to leave this beautiful community to find work.

theresa@wellingtontimes.ca