Sometimes I yearn for a simple life; a back-to-nature, back-to-the-farm quiet life without the "stuff" and distractions of modern living.
I have fond memories of my grandmother's place: there was a barn for the cows, and chickens ran around the yard. The house was small with just four rooms: an eat-in kitchen, living room, and 2 bedrooms. There was no indoor plumbing; an outhouse stood in the side yard, and water was from a spring. There was no electricity; at night the house was lit with warm light from kerosene lamps.
The setting was beautiful - mornings were foggy, and at night the sound of whippoorwills rang through the narrow valley.
I have often thought of her home, and her simple life existence, even long after she passed away. A place like that and a life like that has always been what I thought of as a simple life - a life I have sometimes yearned for.
But an incident a couple of days ago made me wonder if I'd ever have the patience for that kind of life...
I woke up in the morning really wanting a cup of coffee. My hubby had set up the coffee before he went to work so when I went to the kitchen, all I had to do was hit the "on" switch and wait. And wait.
I walked through the house, stopped and looked out the window at the morning. I went back to the kitchen, and looked at the coffeepot. Not enough brewed to "sneak a cup."
I gave my cat lots of pets, and a couple of kitty treats and went back to look at the coffeepot. And waited. Impatiently.
I decided I might as well fill the bird feeders while the coffee was brewing so I grabbed the bowl, got some seeds, and took a walk outside.
When I came back in I was finally able to "sneak a cup" and start drinking my morning coffee.
I was a little frustrated. I complained amongst myself about the slow coffeepot. And then, I thought about my grandmother's house. If I wanted a cup of coffee there I would've had to stir the fire in the wood cookstove and throw in a couple more pieces of wood. I would've had to get the water bucket, walk to the spring, fill the bucket and walk back.
I then would've had to set up the percolater coffee pot, put it on the woodstove, and wait for the stove to get hot. Finally, I would've had to wait for the coffee to boil!
I laughed. I was so frustrated having to wait 10 minutes for my morning coffee! If I was living the "simple life" I'd yearned for, it could've been an hour!
I still love the idea of the "simple life" but I have to wonder how difficult it would be to get used to the slower pace. We live in a world where it's always "right now, really fast and go-go-go!"
They say that patience is a virtue; I wonder if patience can be re-learned.