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Illness, work stress, and the general 'too much to do' finally got out of the way enough tonight for some fun, of which I'll merely hit the highlights:)
( So I'll say just a little )
I've been thinking about a great many things, hopefully I'll get to them all soon. Since my discovery of Project Gutenberg, I've downloaded some fairly obscure works by Louisa May Alcott, that I had read during some very specific points in my life.
When I was young, actually, throughout my time living with my parents, there were times ends just weren't meeting, so utilities would get shut off, quite regularly. Since it happened all the time, I had little understanding that it didn't happen to everyone. Without electricity, we had oil lamps, candles that must have been from a cathedral supply, and one time, a nifty little propane lamp that gave off plenty of light. To this day I like candleholders with fingergrips, because of their usefulness. We listened to a battery operated tape player, my father had a collection of old radio shows on tape. One years, after nine months without electricity, when it was turned back on, the refrigerator was broken. We bought a 25 gallon cooler, and didn't replace the fridge till we moved, 5 years later. In the summer I would go to the store every day for bags of ice, in the winter we kept certain things outside, which was ok, except when the milk froze. That was always annoying.
Living without gas meant no stove, and no hot water. We had a 2 burner propane camp stove, and would heat huge soup pots with hot water, and carry them very carefully up to the tub, taking shallow baths. As I grew my hair out, my mother would help me wash it. I have to say having the gas off was the worst. Phone I barely noticed.
People were always shocked when I would explain I hadn't seen some TV show because we had no electricity, or when it would come up that there was no refridgerator, and we'd done just fine without one for years. Reading the Alcott made me feel a little less odd. One day, my mother and I went to the welfare office, so she could apply, again, for food stamps. (we were denied, i know not why). I was reading a collection of Alcotts letters, thankful they were engaging enough to take me away from the soul-killing atmosphere. Her attitude towards helping her family, and work in general, chipped away a little at my surly-teenager shell, sitting there in the midst of that numb despair, seeing my mothers frustration at trying to get someone, anyone to understand she needed to feed her family. By the end of the next week, I was working three jobs, and satisfied.
I know I will never be in that position. Even should Sir tell me to go, I will always, always remember that day, that feeling, and do whatever it takes, whatever I must, and find my satisfaction in that, if nothing else. I'll always have that, and I am grateful
( So I'll say just a little )
I've been thinking about a great many things, hopefully I'll get to them all soon. Since my discovery of Project Gutenberg, I've downloaded some fairly obscure works by Louisa May Alcott, that I had read during some very specific points in my life.
When I was young, actually, throughout my time living with my parents, there were times ends just weren't meeting, so utilities would get shut off, quite regularly. Since it happened all the time, I had little understanding that it didn't happen to everyone. Without electricity, we had oil lamps, candles that must have been from a cathedral supply, and one time, a nifty little propane lamp that gave off plenty of light. To this day I like candleholders with fingergrips, because of their usefulness. We listened to a battery operated tape player, my father had a collection of old radio shows on tape. One years, after nine months without electricity, when it was turned back on, the refrigerator was broken. We bought a 25 gallon cooler, and didn't replace the fridge till we moved, 5 years later. In the summer I would go to the store every day for bags of ice, in the winter we kept certain things outside, which was ok, except when the milk froze. That was always annoying.
Living without gas meant no stove, and no hot water. We had a 2 burner propane camp stove, and would heat huge soup pots with hot water, and carry them very carefully up to the tub, taking shallow baths. As I grew my hair out, my mother would help me wash it. I have to say having the gas off was the worst. Phone I barely noticed.
People were always shocked when I would explain I hadn't seen some TV show because we had no electricity, or when it would come up that there was no refridgerator, and we'd done just fine without one for years. Reading the Alcott made me feel a little less odd. One day, my mother and I went to the welfare office, so she could apply, again, for food stamps. (we were denied, i know not why). I was reading a collection of Alcotts letters, thankful they were engaging enough to take me away from the soul-killing atmosphere. Her attitude towards helping her family, and work in general, chipped away a little at my surly-teenager shell, sitting there in the midst of that numb despair, seeing my mothers frustration at trying to get someone, anyone to understand she needed to feed her family. By the end of the next week, I was working three jobs, and satisfied.
I know I will never be in that position. Even should Sir tell me to go, I will always, always remember that day, that feeling, and do whatever it takes, whatever I must, and find my satisfaction in that, if nothing else. I'll always have that, and I am grateful
