Interesting is in the eye of the beholder. It’s a subjective opinion same as declaring something/someone beautiful. But I prefer interesting to beautiful.
As I sit, taking a break from housework, I look out the window and see there is snow falling outside. Again. It’s falling softly onto the giant pile of recycling sitting in front of our house.
Husband likes to listen to a radio show called Coast to Coast. On this program, various experts talk about the end of the world as we know it. Environmentalists, geologists, astronomers, extra-terrestrial enthusiasts, and others I can’t name at the moment, Notably, this show airs at 3 am. Or maybe it doesn’t? But that’s when husband listens to it. During our drive to my job in the mornings he explains what new calamity he has heard about or old one he has received confirmation on, and we talk about buying some acreage off the grid. Would we build our own structure? Haul a trailer up there (what about if it’s land with water access only)? Buy something with a cabin already built? That could have its own problems. Sometimes it’s better to build new than it is to inherit problems from an old building. Besides, we would rather have an outhouse than a place that has indoor plumbing. The idea is to make a home not dependent on resources provided by businesses.
And then we give our heads a shake, laughing a little at the very idea that our world might experience a drastic, brutal change such as that. Added to that, for us to execute this plan, we would need to be already living there when disaster strikes. There are very few roads to take to get out of the city, when compared to the millions of cars/trucks and panicked people all with the same idea as us. One needs only to watch 1 movie (such as World War Z or War of the Worlds) to understand living in a city is not a viable solution to the end of the world. No matter how secure I am Legend makes it seem, you can observe how quickly Will Smith’s city town home, complete with bars, steel shutters, and ammonia to kill his human scent on his front steps, can be penetrated and rendered ineffectual. I’d rather follow the model set forth in Looper, where a small family survives in an old farmhouse in the middle of what looks like nowhere.
This summer I’m planning a big project. I’ve decided to re-invigorate our garden beds in the back yard, plus make trips to pick-your-own, and put up fruit, veg, and other preserves for winter. I haven’t figured out where I’ll store this bounty in our tiny city home, but that will come later. Maybe I’ll decorate like an East Side Mario restaurant, putting food items among our furniture. If nothing else, I’ll teach my children how to do these things (same as my mom taught me) and our larder won’t run dry, at least for the following year.