Exploring the Human Condition: altered states of consciousness

Posts tagged ‘barns’

Missing the 1800’s

One hundred years is a long time.  But 200 years later, the ways in which people live would be unrecognizable to a person living in say…  1850.   And here’s what I miss…

I miss early mornings in 1850.  In small towns, and small farms all over the United States, people woke the fluck up at a decent hour, even early!  The homes and the grounds literally came alive with activity.  People had animals – livestock in barns and pastures to look after.  The women had smaller fare, up closer to the house, and children to raise.

In my neighborhood today, 2018, people wake up early, but then the men leave.  They turn on big trucks with lights, and after a quick breakfast, they head out.  You can hear them moving down the roads all around us each morning, and then it gets quiet again.  I think most of the women and babies go back to bed for a little bit.

The early towns, especially as you went out west, were just stick buildings constructed out in the dust and the rocks, but each morning those towns came alive.  It was a big deal back in the 1800’s to “go to town.”  It usually meant a long trip down a bumpy road with a wagon, but no one minded.  Going to town was the ultimate fun.  It meant a break from farm chores and the normal grind.

People actually knew each other.  They actually looked at each other’s faces, and remarked, maybe smiled; they actually interacted.  Now, it’s so strange.  You can be in a room full of twenty people, and not one person will connect.   I live in a rural neighborhood, and it is almost 7 a.m. on a Friday in late March.  All you can hear now are the roosters, and they are everywhere.  I cannot imagine any people needing so many roosters, but they do.  It is a constant chorus of crowing, and the sound carries for a mile or so…

In the 1800’s, the people wore very amazing handmade clothing, and it was a true feat in itself if you could sew and make decent wearable clothing, all of which was done by hand.  They didn’t have sewing machines back then.  The clothing you wore protected you in all events, and women wore things in layers.  Now you grab a knit top of unknown content put together on a serger in China, and you’re ready to go!  Space clothes!

Most of all, I miss the horses.  I miss the countryside, the pretty things growing on the side of the road…  I miss the fact that children played in the fields and climbed in the trees and ran and ran for days…  free flowing streams that were clean to put your feet in…  Birds sang in profusion and bees buzzed at every flower.  And you could smell grandmother’s cooking all the way past the barn.  She looked real nice in that red calico apron she made last week.

And Grandpa was always around, working on something.  You could usually find him out in the old garage, tinkering around, or just standing there, looking out into space…  Or he would say “Let’s go, baby folks, let’s go into town!”  The old truck would rattle and roll, but we always made it somehow.  These new fangled mini-space rockets buzzing down the toll roads at high speeds just aren’t the same as Pa-Pa’s truck.  And they never will be.

Finally… I can breathe again…

It’s impossible to know how your life will turn out. As you go down the road, you can make plans, and choose certain paths… you hope for the best, and you work hard. And when difficult, even terrible things happen, it’s really not at all about the problem, or the obstacle, no matter how dire or hopeless it might seem. It’s all about how you react to it. It’s all about what you do about it. How you do it. How realistic you can be. How flexible and open to new ideas you can be. How willing you are to give and give and then still give some more. That’s what matters.

I haven’t seen two dimes to rub together in longer than I care to think on. I’ve given up all the modern American obsessions years ago, to live a simple, very basic life. I’ve always loved the Earth and gardening, growing things and flowers, I just never had the time to do a good job at it, because I had to work, and work every day very long hours, driving the long commutes back and forth, like so many, to pay for my place, for my dream. I had a great grandfather, but nobody provided for me. When I turned 18 and graduated, it was pretty much Adios Amiga! Good luck and all that…

I didn’t have the brains and the determination to be a true professional, mostly I didn’t have the discipline. A woman I met recently was hell-bent on defining everything in terms of her version of Astrology… or should I say “Ass-trology.” I know that’s very mean… sorry… (like on SNL: “sorry”) haha I believe in the stars and I know they direct and chart our very existence. But I don’t bring up astrology first thing when I meet someone… good grief, it’s 2014, and we’ve progressed somewhat since 1970 I think…

Anyway, for some reason, my fingers have always had an innate connection directly to my brain and whatever I have ever wanted to do, whether for fun or profit, I could do with my hands, or well, my fingers to be specific… I play the piano and I type really fast, without thinking about either one… Typing paid my rent, playing the piano has filled my soul and made this life very special indeed… feels like a gift from God actually…

But my homelife as a kid was never stable or easy, there was always tension in the home, many times abuse of varying degrees, and lots of dysfunction coming from the parents, which translated directly into lots of dysfunction in my brother, bless his heart, who has never recovered from it all… So my one dream as a girl growing up, was to one day have a home, like a small piece of land, with a house on it, that I could own, and love, where there would never be a harsh word, or fear or unhappiness, where animals and people alike could come and share good times and serenity. Live in peace.

Well this year I turned 59. And I think I have all the ducks in a row, after a very huge WAKE-UP call just this past week or so… it was 50/50 lose it all or hope for a miracle… Well, the miracle came, it’s not a windfall by any means, but I earned it, and now I’m sharing it back… one friend I love very much said once when he helped me out in a desperate time, just to pay it forward, that was all he asked. He had faith in me, that one day my life would turn around again, and things would sort themselves out properly. And they did.

This amazing summer of 2014 could be the end of struggling, and the beginning of only good things from now on. So good in fact, that I can start to think about writing on my other blog “In the Life and Mind of an Artist” and maybe even get started on my projects I’ve had to put aside for so long… To the young man who recently said to me, “Sew? Really? You haven’t sewed in years, why would you even want to start that now…” Like it was completely ridiculous to him. Well, son, I hate to tell you, but tell a woman she can’t do something, and she will do it come hell or high water… you’ll learn… Another supposedly “good” friend of mine, although usually being supportive on the surface, was always the one to remind me about “money” when it came to another dream of mine, which is to ride again, to have a horse again. Now I’d like to tell her to her face that it doesn’t take winning the lottery or even getting a huge settlement for an accident that should never have happened… What it takes is planning, financial strategies, a good heart, and a lot of help from upstairs… 🙂

Life is good at the Little Ranch, Summer 2014 Arnie at one year...

Life is good at the Little Ranch, Summer 2014
Arnie at one year…

This summer, after a couple of weeks of 24/7 stress for days, I see light at the end of the tunnel, finally, and I can blog now, and take pics with my great digital camera I love so much now… (took me a while to adjust, cause I’m older–haha) I can play my keyboard, maybe even get something I can use professionally now, and with any luck at all, all the things I’ve dreamed of doing can happen now. I won’t just have my safe home, but I’ll be helping a lot of other people in the bargain… just wait and see… this is my second chance, and I won’t be wasting it!

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