Saturday, July 4, 2009

Thinking about the Past...

We are off to pick green beans again this Saturday morning. Which has me order to live almost completely off the land, my ancestors must've worked nonstop. If we don't put up enough beans and tomatoes, I'm sure WalMart will have plenty. If they didn't put up enough, I suppose they tightened their belts and went on. It's no wonder the divorce rate used to be lower. Children then knew what life consisted of...there was no disillusionment as to the work involved in living. I suppose when they got married it was with the foresight of marrying to live and have a family. They watched their parents work every day of their lives ...together. I just can't imagine my great grandmother going out to work in the garden or milk the cow and her thinking, "I gotta get to Kohls today...this dress just isn't in fashion." What I'm thinking is that more serious thoughts were on their minds. Maybe people just have too much free time nowadays. Too much time to waste on trivial matters and things of no substance and circumstance. If you don't work your own land, you can still go to WalMart, and hey even if you don't work at can still go to WalMart on everyone else' s dime. People just don't face any consequences...don't feel committed to anyone or anything. Maybe that's what makes people fly away to someone else or each new gadget so easily..nobody has bonding knot with their spouse. They aren't working together to survive, they are each going their separate ways and working for stuff. Stuff to keep up with other people who shouldn't even matter in everyday life. I don't know ....I'm just thinking. Picking beans always has me contemplating.... :)

1 comment:

  1. yes, how often i think of my grandmother; your greatgrandmother (Alice Bennett) and on my worst days cleaning houses; i think of how in the world did she do all she did??? never a still moment unless it was on the front porch swing; spitting snuff in a tin can, a dress, petticoat and long stockings helt up above here knees with the bands they used, long black hair to her waist coiled on top of her head and little wire glasses that got changed maby 3 times in her adult life. i look at my aching hands and see hers in far worse shape than mine; working a half acher plot with ever imaginable vegetable in it and us with a hoe. her garden was spotless as far as weeds go, you definetly knew a carrot from a weed. then oh mercy the harvest, bushels of beans on the wrap around porch,(oh did i mention, that we spent the whole day before picking), and string, breaking, the next day, and canning in a hugh canner over an open fire across the creek; DEAR LORD, with tears in my eyes how i miss those days--daughter of mine you are (through your hard work, giving your 4 CHILDREN they weren't kids then that was a goats baby---something that they will be able to dream of and hopeful desire to do themselves in their future). gee thanks now i'm all teary and i have to go to WAL-MART.