I bought a substantial (obscene really) amount of land that had been owned by a paper mill. It hadn't been harvested since the 80s and it's a working forest (TSI, sustainable) now. I know
how it's done, have the gear, and can log safely - I just can't do it at the speeds they do it at.
These days, there's little logging left. They still have the festivals with the demonstrations and competitions, though.
The lumber quality wood from my land goes to turning and some specialty mills - some goes down to Belgrade (Hammond). Over in Vienna, I've got a bunch of commercial blueberry fields, about 400 acres.
So, I've tried to fit in and the natives accept me as one of their own. I still call them the Village People, though.
You can tell when they've accepted you. The gossip is no longer about you - and now they tell you gossip about the new people. I moved here after selling my business and built a giant house.
The locals would come sit in my future driveway and talk about me. Sometimes, they'd spend the whole day there. So, I made it a point to hire anyone who asked. That worked wonders.
I paid people to teach me how to hunt, fish, use a chainsaw, process meat, preserve things, grow a garden, etc...
It's been VERY different than what I'd expected when I opted to move here. It's been much better, actually. It's the first place I've ever called home - which might explain my gushing about it.