Have you ever thought back to how you answered that question when you were seven years old? When I think about my response and then look at where I'm at, I can't help but laugh.
Even though I grew up just outside DC, my favorite thing to do was hang out in the creek. Basically, it was a drainage that brought the water from the gutters down to the Potomac River. Based on my time down there, I thought I'd like to be an Iroquois Indian or Amish. I had learned about both in school and they seemed to fit. Later, my mom explained how Native Americans no longer lived in longhouses, and even though the Amish still lived without modern conveniences and used draft horses to plow their fields, she advised that I would get in more trouble being Amish than I ever did being her daughter.
Perhaps its dumb luck, but I think I've blindly found my way back to my childhood dreams--no indoor plumbing; four years in a tipi without electricity; the sun and rain providing my water and electricity; a wood burning stove for heat and hot water; an outdoor kitchen in the summer months and a dusty greenhouse filled with greens in the winter months; and an intimate, regular relationship with manure. I am surrounded by neighbors, housemates, and a town full of people carving out equally insane existences.
I think about my stubborn little girl self, who craved a life close to nature, and I see she's still getting her way after all these years.
A few photos from this week, though the sky's been grey and the ground a mucky mess. To supplement this week, I also dug up some old photos as I dream of summer and spring.
Even though I grew up just outside DC, my favorite thing to do was hang out in the creek. Basically, it was a drainage that brought the water from the gutters down to the Potomac River. Based on my time down there, I thought I'd like to be an Iroquois Indian or Amish. I had learned about both in school and they seemed to fit. Later, my mom explained how Native Americans no longer lived in longhouses, and even though the Amish still lived without modern conveniences and used draft horses to plow their fields, she advised that I would get in more trouble being Amish than I ever did being her daughter.
Perhaps its dumb luck, but I think I've blindly found my way back to my childhood dreams--no indoor plumbing; four years in a tipi without electricity; the sun and rain providing my water and electricity; a wood burning stove for heat and hot water; an outdoor kitchen in the summer months and a dusty greenhouse filled with greens in the winter months; and an intimate, regular relationship with manure. I am surrounded by neighbors, housemates, and a town full of people carving out equally insane existences.
I think about my stubborn little girl self, who craved a life close to nature, and I see she's still getting her way after all these years.
A few photos from this week, though the sky's been grey and the ground a mucky mess. To supplement this week, I also dug up some old photos as I dream of summer and spring.
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| Photo: Rebecca Siegel |
Lovely entry... as always. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you!!!
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