Just some things on my mind lately...
I don't believe that people are or should be defined by their work.
It doesn't make sense that people should do the same thing, day in and day out with merely a week or two each year to do something different and not be expected to totally lose their passion and sense of well-being.
I want to educate (yes, homeschool) my own children.
I want to grow my own food.
I want to require less money.
I want Doug to have more free time.
I don't want to have to get in the car to see my friends.
I don't want to live for the weekend. And I don't want Doug to live for the weekend, either.
I want to travel with my children.
I want to create a lifestyle of constant learning for our family. New experiences and new knowledge all the time.
I don't want a meaningless job to dictate whether or not we can see our family at Christmas.
I want to know that if all hell breaks loose and the shit hits the fan, our family will make it through, because we know how to survive without supermarkets and gasoline.
I want to feel like I am in control of my own life and that I can take care of my own family.
I don't want to find myself looking at my grown children and wishing I had taken the risks, made the sacrifices, to have the life we wanted.
Is it too much to ask? Can we do it? Will we do it?
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Today I started making a photo album for Lucy. It's really for us, too. We'll all enjoy looking through them together one day. I know that nowadays people don't really make photo albums anymore. Everything is stored digitally on computers and phones. And so many photos get lost or forgotten about, never looked at. Lots of photos of mine from college that existed digitally have vanished to who knows where since I've bought new computers and moved files around, etc. Of course, physical prints get lost, too. You put them away in boxes, then you move to a new house, and another new house, and god only knows where they are now. But, keeping physical prints is important to me, not because files get lost and forgotten in digital space, but because there's something meaningful about holding and looking at a physical photograph. It's just not the same when you look at it on a screen. Flipping through old photos is a physical and social act that can't be replicated by crowding around a computer, just like playing Words with Friends on your phone is not the same as playing Scrabble around the coffee table. When Lucy grows up, she'll probably be one of very few people her age with an actual photo album. It even has magnetic pages, just like mine from the 1980s. We can slide in a 4x6 or a 4x5 or an mini polaroid or an iPhone print-out all in the same book. I think she'll enjoy looking at it one day. I will, anyway.