Tuesday, February 21, 2012

The Life for Me

What do you think about reincarnation? I just…I don’t know. Maybe I’m just really strange, well I already know that, but sometimes I feel like I was born way too late. Like I come from a different time. (Now I probably confirmed your thoughts of my weirdness too!)

Is there a reason I have two aprons in my Anthropologie shopping cart that are haunting me to buy them? And why have I asked for this hat for two years in a row for my birthday:

The "Ike Clanton" hat from the movie Tombstone!

Maybe these strange urges come from my unfortunate experiences with my present way of life. When things happen like this morning…I went to open my bottle of orange juice and had to squeeze so hard on the cover that I got a bruise. Which caused me to curse the day plastic was ever invented. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE PLASTIC. I mean I couldn’t live without it these days. But drinking juice out of a glass tumbler would have been much easier.  I always have those kinds of thoughts about the way we live now. I constantly wish for the ‘walked uphill both ways’ days. You know, way back when….wait a minute…I can’t possibly know what it was like way back when, because I wasn’t even born. Heck, my parental units weren’t even born then.

So you can see my dilemma. Maybe it’s because I’ve watched too many westerns, too many 31 days of Oscar movies on TCM or read too many pioneer women stories. I don’t know. But I always have this kind of longing, to do things from the past. Like plant my own garden or make rag rugs or buy books that are titled "Lost Lore: A Celebration of Traditional Wisdom" or "How to Sew a Button: And Other Nifty Things Your Grandmother Knew".

But I know I probably would’ve never been able to do what those pioneers did, I would’ve never survived! I like to think I would, but I’m too soft. Too soft from Taco John’s drive-ups, Google, and washing machines. I think I just love the thought of living back then because you actually worked to survive. If you didn’t go milk your beautiful Brown Swiss cow (yes, I want a Brown Swiss!), you wouldn’t have milk. If you didn’t give your garden tender love and care, you’d go without vegetables. You were working for yourself, for your life, and your family’s life, and that made the fruits of your labor so much sweeter.



So maybe it’s not only the past way of life I want, maybe it’s the way people were on the inside. Strong and good morals and not afraid to dig in and help. Unbelievably brave and not scared to do what had to be done. Sheesh I’m a mouse compared to a pioneer! They braved the unknown west for a better life and here I am, barely able to call and make a hair appointment because I would actually have to talk to someone. WOW. I should probably work on that before I develop agoraphobia.

So I should really be happy about my strange revelations about the past, even if they make me a weirdo. I will feel better the next time I think “W.W.G.G.D.?” (What Would Great-Grams Do?) because I know the answer will be the right thing to do. And my conscience will take over, and make me do that right thing, even if I think I can’t or don’t want to. Writing this has made me have another revelation…of how lucky I am to be tied to the past this way, so I’m not caught up in present day debauchery! Like Potato Olés—completely wicked and sinful! (Okay that was a bad example because I can’t live without them. But you know what I mean.)



The old photos shown are from the ND State Historical Society. Go here to search their archives!

6 comments:

  1. Have I told you lately how cool you are? I decided when I grow up I want to be like you. Sometimes, I too wish I would live "back when." I catch myself saying, "I best be getting to the dishes," or "I'll fry up some bacon and grits for suppa." hahaha:) The pioneer ladies rock......

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  2. Oh Cheyannie, if you are a weirdo than I am a weirdo, too. :) It's pretty amazing how similar we are, even though in age and distance we are so far away. I yearn for pretty much everything you mentioned in this piece. Do you know what my most favorite dream is? To own an island. To put everyone I love and cherish on that island and we would just . . .exist. We would hunt and gather (I need you on this) for what we needed and just like you said, everything we did would be for our families, for each other, and it would make everything SO much sweeter. On this island Cheyanne, there would be no mascara, no rich politicians, no Reebok Shape Ups, no hate. We can have aprons though. For sure.

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