Living the Dream

One family we know bought an RV and toured the United States for some months with their children and the pet squirrel. A dog, too, I believe. As a friend who prefers fine hotels said, "That's living the dream." (He was clearly being sarcastic.)

It's a funny thing about dreams—we don't all have the same one.

So when I met a couple earlier this month and learned that the wife draws up potential home plans for fun, and had read The Humanure Handbook, and longed for a place in the country, it was a bit surreal. "You're living my wife's dream!" said her husband.

It's been a long time since a sawdust toilet and a trailer in the country has seemed like any kind of a dream to me, but it was a good reminder. We chose this life.

That couple biked down to see the farm today. It was fun to talk about cows and rootstocks, construction and crawlspaces, education (and changing direction), how to store the maximum number of books in a small space, and so on. They promised to bike back again, and we'll look forward to it.

Despite hot and muggy weather, where we would just drip standing still, Phil spent the afternoon digging with the backhoe. It was technical and challenging, but I think he felt like that's about done. He also worked a bit on the window that he's tried to set twice already.

Tonight Phil went to do laundry. We had been watching a storm passing to the north, while we had no rain here. Phil called to say that within a few miles, he had been hit with a deluge. And with $11 worth of quarters in the washers, the power flickered off. All machines shut off. That's the second time we've lost money in that exact way. There is a way to get the money back, apparently.

But for now we're just thankful that the power came back on so Phil can start again, and not return with sopping, dirty clothes. That would have been a disaster.