Dreams Adrift

(continued from July 29th)

But within a month of starting classes and loving every minute of it my lack of income continued so it became painfully clear that I was going to have to delay my new interest and get a REAL job. So I dropped out of school and began the job search in one of the worst economic environments in decades. I found a job relatively quickly and left it quickly in favor of job two. This second job required an hour commute to and from work each day so again I had the opportunity to listen to books on tape.

One of my very favorites is The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck. Many of us were required to read it in high school but it is definitely worth a re-visit, especially during these difficult economic times. Sometimes we can benefit from a reality check. I would highly recommend listening to the version that is read by Dylan Baker.

I’ve always been extraordinarily interested in “The Great Depression.” The strength and tenacity of the human spirit intrigues me and I love stories of people who don’t just survive but triumph in difficult circumstances and surely those years were some of the very hardest our country endured.

My mother was raised during the depression and told me many stories of how her mother, a grandmother I never had the privilege to meet, ran a boarding house in their home in Philly for men who came to that city to work. During the week they lived in the boardinghouse and then returned to their families in outlying rural communities during the weekends. My grandfather was a conductor on one of the many railroads during that time, carrying coal, iron and workers in and out of Philadelphia. I guess some of the stories she told me made quite an impression on my young brain; perhaps that’s the reason for my interest.

So after listening again to The Grapes of Wrath, I then became interested in living a more simple live; thus began two years of ‘paring down’, attempting to live more frugally, more healthily, closer to the land…one that would allow my family and I a head start should another economic collapse occur. Little did I know we were well on our way in that direction.

I gathered books on my new favorite topic and devoured every one. Books like: The Good Life by Helen and Scott Nearing, the founders of the simplicity movement; Voluntary Simplicity; The Simple Life; Extreme Simplicity; Plain Living; Simple Living and The Complete Tightwad Gazette. This is just a very partial list of the many books that were delivered nearly every day from Amazon. Of course, my new frugality suffered as I expanded my library but never mind about that…

I erected a clothesline (more on my clothesline experience at another posting) so as to save energy used by the dryer but the damn thing frustrated me to no end as I couldn’t keep it from bending under the weight of my wet laundry and even copious amounts of cement would not anchor it firmly in Florida’s sandy soil.

I also planted a large vegetable garden intent on growing our own food, however, the frigging insects were equally intent on me growing THEIR food. I ordered ladybugs so they could devour the aphids but when, with great excitement and an expectant drum roll, I opened the lid, they all took a look around and flew away.

I tried to make insect repellant with soap and other organic and natural ingredients but I’m pretty sure I saw those nasty bugs laugh merrily as I drenched them in soapy liquid and then they happily went back to munching on my squash and bell peppers.

I mercilessly went through my house with a fine-tooth comb and sold and gave away tons of frivolous items. Then I packed up most everything that remained and put it all in storage to ready my home for sale. I wanted to move to north Georgia or Tennessee or North Caroline and begin living off the land in simplicity and frugality in earnest. I made a couple trips to these chosen locations, decided on North Carolina and began to imagine myself as an alpaca farmer, working and living off the land with my income coming solely from alpaca fur or hair or whatever it’s called.

However, my 16 yr old son wasn’t really having dreams of pastoral life and, indeed, wanted nothing to do with a move halfway across the country leaving his school and friends. So I hauled all my stuff back from storage, ‘plowed’ under my garden and threw down sod and finally kicked over my failed but beloved clothesline.

My dream to live more simplistically with less stuff in an environment more attuned to my inner longings still sings strongly and loudly in my heart.

I wait.