Click Your Heels Three Times

Click your heels three times and imagine your perfect home. No, the slippers don't have to be silver or ruby- maybe just some comfortably worn fuzzy things you got for Christmas one year. Money and locale would make no difference - just one fleeting, completely over the top image of what you think your ideal home would be.

I know that some might choose a villa in Italy or perhaps a castle in Bavaria where the ladies would wear tiaras and flowing gowns waltzing round and round with a handsome prince. Maybe it would be a New York high rise- the penthouse view complete with doormen and chauffeurs- there is something to do all the time donned in the latest fashions from Paris where, of course, you jetted to make the purchase.

Mine would be something a little more subdued. I love my house, it's almost perfect but lacking pasture land that would make it the ideal home. It is too big for us now that everyone is grown and on their own; however, never say never- they often return to the nest.

The home pictured here is real. It is just up the county road from us, a small farm that boards horses, throwing in a few head of cattle into the mixture. I took the photo in black and white because there is hardly anything that dates it. It could well have been 40 years ago. This is where my heart would be. A place to grow our own crops, raise a few chicks, a cow named Daisy that would give us fresh milk to drink and for cheese, a goat or two that would provide fiber for spinning, milk for a little feta, maybe a couple of pretty lambs and at least two or three llamas to guard against coyotes. I'd have my husband make a pretty little cart that the goats could pull. A couple of horses with a buggy would be just peachy! It's a common site in my grandmother's town of Bethany, MO where there is a large Amish population.

We would sit on the porch at night and listen to the sound of the night creatures: the chirping crickets, the deep grunting of the bullfrogs or the shrill tweet of tree frogs as they make their nightly rounds. We would enjoy our freshly made ice cream, compliments of Daisy, perhaps topped with a few of our plump strawberries, assuming our granddaughter, Taylor, didn't find them first!

I think this is what God had in mind, at least for us. Something simple, where you had respect for the land that returned your labors with a bounty of fresh fruits and vegetables grown in natural materials without chemical additives and were not genetically modified. Where neighbors have respect for each other, sharing workload for the common good.

As you know, I am learning these skills from the past: sewing, crochet, quilting, gardening, processing our own meat and cheese, waiting for the time when they might be needed. When all the modern conveniences on which we have become dependent don't exist, whether it is a time where God says "Enough" (there's a reason why they say idle hand are the devil's workshop) or our economy collapses and prices for them become much too dear. I am hoping against hope that this does not happen because I love most of my modern appliances, but just in case . . . .