Simple things...

I sometimes wonder what it would feel like to just ditch all the modern conveniences. To build a log cabin with my family, farm the land and simplify our lives. I know realistically, I'd never really do that. However, I'd love to simplify.

Sometimes I feel like I can't even hear my own thoughts because I'm being drowned out by the sound of the TV, the radio, the computer, the traffic, the fans, the air conditioner, sirens, video games and much more. There are days I just long for a little silence. I want to hear the wind rustle in the trees, the bugs buzzing around, the birds talking, a frog in the pond, the call of something wild in the woods.

Do I want to go live Little House on the Prairie? Well, no. But I'd love to have lace curtains blowing in the breeze. To NOT hear the constant hum of traffic and sirens. To have notice of people coming up my drive by the barking of the dogs. To sit on my front porch in my nightgown drinking hot tea and watch the sun rise or set. To curl up by the fire with a book and watch the snow pile up and not worry that anyone in my family has anywhere to be. To sleep with the windows open. To walk down a quiet country lane with my husband and son and pick wildflowers on the way home. I want to NOT have to duck for cover when the neighbor is out. To NOT see the old lady standing at the fence staring at my wash on the line.

I need to love and to nurture. I have so much more of myself to give. I want a few animals, some privacy, a garden and soil to call my own.

I used to spend summers on my Grandparent's farm. They had all these things and it was wonderful. I speak from the mind of a child. But, I spent my summers there clear through high school and a few in college. The work was hard. I would snap beans on the porch until my fingers were numb. My Grandma had the biggest garden I have ever seen and she had flowers everywhere. It was enchanting. I would haul water from the spring to water them when it was dry. It was soothing and purposeful. There was a lot of work feeding the chickens and don't even get me started about the summer we mad 'kraut. UGH! Shaving and pounding cabbage in a crock. But there was something about getting the eggs that morning and frying them in the pan.

I'd love to give my son that taste of purpose. Of growing food, seeing where it comes from. Raising a cow, picking apples and peaches. Driving a dusty dirty farm truck across the field. The wonderful thing is in these modern times you have a safety net. If it doesn't work out, you can always go to Wal-Mart.