Strange conversations, activities and interactions keep happening. The people that I randomly encounter and have conversations with are more aligned than ever and no they absolutely are not all 60 year old women.
I think that is what seems so surreal. Hubs and I were at Costco a few weeks back. And anyone that has every spent a minute knows he does not know a stranger. AT ALL! He struck up a conversation with one of the young ladies doing samples as he often does. The conversation became so lively with others at her station joining in, and other customers also. It all revolved around how no one knows how to cook anymore, the loss to the education system where home economics and shop classes rarely occurred anymore, where kids learn odd social constructs but not basic life skills, and how little useful information was being taught.
You can imagine how the conversation went and grew. I do have a passion around this topic so it was absolutely incredible to listen to it all. I can honestly say my jaw almost hit the floor when the most passionate woman in the group mentioned that she was only 23 and that she would NOT be sending her kids to public schools. She wanted them to learn true life skills and have a productive future. Another of her co-workers piped in with the same thoughts and concerns. What? Huh?
More and more of my neighbors are gardening, I run into folks randomly that are creating gardens, learning skills, searching for ways to learn skills, I find myself deep in conversations about canning, food storage, where to buy quality, chemical free products. It's absolutely mind-boggling.
I've already shared that my youngest grand-daughter had presented me with her skills wish list for the summer, she wanted to learn to make butter, applesauce and lip balm. Seems there was something else, but my over stimulated brain is struggling to remember it.
We started on her list a couple of weeks back. Butter, lots of it! At nine years old she is already building her own box of skills, and this gramma couldn't be happier. Who cares about messes? Not me, they can always be cleaned up. I care about the memories, the future, the carrying forward of things that society seems to be trying to erase. She was into gardening a few years ago, but made herself sick to her tummy eating all of the cherry tomatoes she grew. She's boycotting the garden now, but I feel she will come back around before long.
Last night I was wrapping up the current batch of butter, methodically, slowly, enjoying the journey. Smiling as I looked in the bowl at each step, watching it turn from a thick, heavy raw cream into the soft yellow butter. No extra ingredients, well until the salt in the final step - because I prefer salted butter. As I squeezed the final drops of buttermilk from my butter my mind slowly wandered to the possibility of either finding an antique butter board or directions to make my own. As I shaped it and put into the mold, I was enjoying the feeling of producing the butter for our use. Knowing I've eliminated the chemicals and created something that is good for us.
Driving that same sister home from work the other day, our conversation started going into territory that I was not expecting. When she started to tell me that she is old fashioned and feels that things are spiraling out of control, that there is a lack of morals and consequences for behaviors, that we needed to go back to how things used to be, I was stunned. What? Again, HUH?
I was reading an article the other day saying how young folks are shunning electronics and all of the distractions that have been thrown at them since they were young. How they are craving a 90's childhood experience. I can't say that I don't agree with them, although I would probably say a 70's childhood is even more wholesome and needed. I can't wait to see bikes littering lawns, and hear laughter as kids gather under streetlights playing with sidewalk chalk. Of to see kids splashing in puddles after the rain, looking for fireflies at dusk. Mom's and Dad's gathering in the front yards enjoying conversations and a beverage while the kiddo's play. Be still my heart.
In a different moment I read an article about young folks buying up the old motels that line almost every back road around, silently sitting there reminding those of us old enough to know of simpler times. Of road trips with the family to quieter spaces and quality time. They are breathing life into them. They are encouraging folks to relive those moments, that peaceful, slower life. I would love to own one of them myself. A space where the rooms are unique, not cookie cutter and cold. Where folks could gather outside in the evenings around a small pool or fire pit and talk about their journeys, destinations or simply dreams.
For a while Hubs and I had dreamed of owning a B&B. There was always a reason not to. I could definitely enjoy rehabbing and owning a small roadside motel, where the vacancy sign let you know if there was a room to rent at the end of a day spent exploring those roads less traveled. Where there might be a fresh snack, not some prepackaged vending machine crap, and a pitcher of cool fresh water to help you relax. Where a friendly smile and comfy bed waited for you.
I sure hope their dreams catch fire and lead us all back to the slower times. Maybe the old bowl and pitchers will make a reappearance. My sister sent me a link the other day to one that was for sale, a bowl and pitcher, not motel, I almost bought it. I love them, they remind me of simpler times, or slower times. The only thing that stopped me is I am trying to declutter, not add to the clutter.
The farm where I buy a lot of my milk, eggs, meats and veggies among other things is another reminder of the slower, simpler life that I am drawn to. I love my weekly trip to pick up my order and before long I think Hubs and I will drive out to the shop itself, instead of just relying on the weekly delivery. Although I adore the folks that deliver everything. I kept seeing the pictures of their shop and knew that I needed to go in person, I needed to experience the whole process.
Last week I got a message, the delivery team thought that I had left my glasses at pick up. It wasn't me, but the fact that they went out of their way to reach me, was powerful. I am pretty sure Walmart, Schnucks or any of the other big boxes wouldn't care less. They'd even offered to pay for the replacement if they weren't still where they had left them. Again, what??
Each time I log into their site I find something new added. It doesn't all come from their farm, it comes from a collaboration effort of farms and people that are so much like myself. I'd wished it wasn't so far, it is a community I could lose myself in. I wished there was something similar closer, instead of huge corporate groceries and shops. I want mom & pop. I want real. I long for real, real everything, not just some of it. All of it.
Yesterday, Hubs and I made the trip out to Leaning Oaks Farm. It was only 50 minutes or so, it's out in the middle of absolutely no where. It's perfect. Absolutely perfect. I adore their little shop, we'd only planned to pick up a few things, we bought far more, as it was there to consider we just had to. The wonderful woman that owns the farm was sweet enough to have the meats that we wanted packaged and in the freezer for us. One of the cows that's had a difficult time since giving birth was lying in the field just beyond the shop, chewing on her hay, watching us. There was a beautiful farm kitty sitting there, enjoying the sunshine, soaking up the goodness of life.
Hubs isn't always going to be on vacation, we won't always have time to run out to the store, but we will definitely go back. I really needed it. I still do.
I am focusing hard on creating what we need. Not rushing to a shop or a big corporate place. I'm working on Hubs' sweater for example. I want us to have quality, not quantity. When I finish his sweater it will have over a hundred hours in it. I'm okay with that. I know it is 100% wool. There is nothing else in there, it isn't even dyed. It is being custom made for him. He won't run into someone else wearing the same thing. Ever. The soft fiber calms my soul and allows my heart to rest. And I think of him with each stitch. It will truly be made with love.
I don't truly understand what is going on. I can truly say I am excited for it. It feels like an under current of people realizing that faster, quicker, immediate isn't always better. It feels like a movement is being born that slides beneath the veneer of today's world. A movement of people like myself, people that long for simpler, quieter, slower. Where slow meals, meaningful conversations, good ingredients, quality, truthfulness and kindness still matters.
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| anyone want to stoll along a beach? |
How are these people, these moments showing up deeper in my space? Is it because I am intentionally moving deeper into that life? Is it because like attracts like? Or is there truly a change happening.
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| maybe take a slow walk in the rain? |
I wish I knew, I wish I had a crystal ball to give me all the answers. Sometimes I hate waiting for things to reveal themselves. The calm I am feeling is giving me hope, the things I am witnesses are unfolding like a promise. I'm here for it, I want to be part of that kind of movement. I want to be part of doing things for the greater good, I'm tired of this rat race...
Anyone else noticing this? Am I the only one? Surely not? I have some other thoughts that I need to share, but I am still processing them. Still making sense. So much is going on, so many things feel like they are turning. Are we at a turning point?
much love,
b

































































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