Immersed

Lately, I've been keeping up with the household chores but I've put projects on hold. I've been nostalgic for a time that I never knew or experienced and it seems that every few months I get like this. Just a crazy, bluesy, sadness of sorts, a mourning over the fact that I can't go back to a simpler time. I was just telling a friend that I really need to be a hermit in the middle of nowhere...perhaps out on a farm or deep in the mountains. Just a little old quaint home and a garden and fresh air...

When my folks were visiting from California, I went with them to stake out some new construction homes...spacious and beautiful and perfect. They may be moving here in the next five years so they wanted to see what was available. What is wrong with me that en route to such lovely homes, I couldn't help but to do double takes when passing by all the sad little old, dilapidated, ivy covered, tumbled down and forgotten houses? I swear, it's nearly the same feeling I get when I stumble across a stray animal that needs some TLC. Someone help me.:)

When I visit big box stores, internally I grumble every time over the plastic and mass-produced era that I have to live in now. I groan about the shoddy "craftmanship" (can you even call it that?) of merchandise for sale. I sigh over the lengthy ingredient lists on the foods we buy, half of which are chemicals because I know that way back when, people not only could pronounce the ingredients in their foods, but they knew exactly what those ingredients were and probably produced them themselves. I wince when my children ask for some new fangled plastic toy (that holds their attention for about a day). I'm frustrated that I don't know how to make biscuits or pies from scratch, that I haven't a clue how to garden or can my own foods, that I wouldn't know where to begin making a quilt (or how to operate my own sewing machine, for that matter), that I don't have a woodburning fireplace, that I live on a semi- well traveled street, and so on and so forth.

I was even irritated at Joe Bob Shelf Stocker at Wal-Mart yesterday because he had never even heard of the Farmer's Almanac. "Farmer's what????" *sniff*

Where is that time machine when you need it most?

Oftentimes when I find that I need to "escape" to another world and time, I go to the library and check out many books of the same theme and bury myself in them for days and days. One of the books I checked out recently is called, "A Place Called Sweet Apple - Country Living and Southern Recipes" It was written in 1967 by a very prolific columnist for the Atlanta Constitution (she's been gone for quite a few years now) who discovered a deserted country cabin and fell in love with it at first site.

I knew after reading the first page that this woman, Celestine Sibley, was really me.

Someday I know that my world will be simple and wonderful and for now, I'll work hard be content with sustenance and covering. But, oh, isn't it wonderful to daydream about how things are suppose to be?!