The girls and I had such a fun day
today. We met up with our friends early in the morning and caravanned
up North to where our other friends live and spent the day all
together at the Indiana Dunes. I love the Dunes. We really only end
up making it up there once a year, but every time we go, no matter
the weather or season, we have a fantastic time. It's fun to be able
to give my kids a beachy experience despite the fact that we are
actually landlocked. It's also neat to be able to stand on the beach
and see the city of Chicago in the distance. Lake Michigan is
important to us more recently because of reading Holling C. Holling's
Paddle to the Sea last year
in our schooling. Today Greta found a little red plastic tomahawk in
the water and she wondered aloud through many scenarios of it's
origins, no doubt inspired by good old Paddle.
Between
our families we had eleven children ages 2-9 years and it was a
liiiiiiittle bit frazzling at times keeping track of everybody. But
it was so worth it.
Even the drive up there wasn't too bad.
It takes only about 90 minutes on the interstate to get from home to
Lake Michigan, but today it started to rain so we took a back route
through a small town. It was really beautiful; lots of homesteads and
cottage-style houses, in what I feel like are some of the original
“suburbs” of the nation. (I don't know if they really are, but that's what my imagination says they are.)
Yesterday Martin and I had been talking
about cars and roads. We were wondering about the morality of driving
cars. (I know, we sound like loons. But until we actually refuse to
drive cars and believe they are wicked, I don't think we're
completely off our rockers yet!) When you think of cars these days,
it comes along with the fact that everybody's in a hurry. Everyone
needs to get somewhere, and they need to get there FAST. It's so
important for us to get places quickly that we will literally risk
our lives and the lives of our passengers to make it happen. Today we
didn't caravan back home—my kids were slow to get in their car
seats and I was slow to leave, so our friends went on ahead of us. I
decided to take the interstate the whole way back because I don't
really know my way through the small towns of The Region, so I jumped
on I-94. And I-94 WANTED TO KILL ME.
I kid you not, I was driving above
70mph and I was the slowest vehicle on the road. It was hands down
the most stressful thing I've done in a really, really long time,
INCLUDING having to squeeze a newborn kitten's head through a
cardboard tube of washi tape after he crawled into it and got stuck.
(that was yesterday. I seriously thought I was going to pull his head
off, but he survived with no injury.) I can't even tell you how scary
it was for me to drive on a packed, zoomy, ridiculous road like that.
I AM A PEDESTRIAN, PEOPLE. I DON'T DO FAST DRIVING.
But
that's not why I'm morally against cars. (haha! Kidding! I'm not
really... not yet.) It's not because I personally am afraid of them.
It's because I risked the lives of my kids to be able to have a fun
day with our friends. Now, on the one hand, without a car at all, it
couldn't have happened. However, I really feel that driving, like so
much of the world, has gotten kind of out of control. The “progress”
of speed in the vehicle industry is not necessarily a good thing. The
“progress” of so many roads, while I realize they create jobs,
allow spread out friends and family to see each other, etc., is
encouraging people to spend more time in cars, to live farther away
from each other, because—why not? Zip, zip! I can be anywhere I
want in a flash! If we took life more slowly, we still could have
driven to the Dunes today and had a fun, full day. We could have made
it a three+ hour drive rather than ninety minutes and had just as
great of a time. If we could just slow down.
While
we were gone, Martin occupied himself by starting fires with bow
drills and hand drills and foraging plants and stuff. He was going to
go fishing, but decided not to because the creek he was going to fish
in is labeled a 5 for fish eating safety, which translates to “DO
NOT EVER EAT FISH FROM THIS WATERWAY OR YOU WILL PROBABLY DIE ON THE
SPOT.” How gross is that? And how depressing is it that we as
people of industry and progress have made it to be that way? Our
“progress” on land had made it so that we cannot safely harvest
food from natural sources. This does not seem right to me. This does
not sound like progress.
I
could, admittedly, live about an hour if I had to forage all my food
and water. I can imagine myself going “hunting” and throwing a
stick at a rabbit, then dying of a panic attack when I didn't kill
it. (Or did! Really, either result would bring panic!) And if I
didn't die of the panic attack, I'd just eat something poisonous.
Plant ID is not my forte. Luckily, I married a guy who could live
totally comfortably well into his old age as a hunter-gatherer.
Except, it doesn't matter how much skill or knowledge you have if
your edibles are not healthy to consume. There is a sign along the
riverbank downtown that warns of sewage overflow in the event of
heavy rains and flooding. That's disgusting. I generally allow my
kids to eat sorrel when they find it. But when we find sorrel along
the riverbank growing near a sign the warns of sewage overflow? Um,
that's gross.
And that's not progress.
I don't even know
what we can do about it. You can't really undo industrial progress.
You can't surprise workers all over the planet by sneaking a wild
edible pamphlet into their paycheck envelope and saying “good
luck.” You can't just tell people we aren't going to drive cars
anymore. I know so many areas of society are trying to repair the
damage we've done, but I don't really see it being able to happen.
Sadly.
I
don't know. Maybe I'm becoming an extremist. Maybe I've been Earthing
too much and all those electro-energy molecules are traveling from the soles of
my feet up to my brain and turning me into a hardcore radical nature
preserver of the worst kind. Maybe you'll see me in the bushes along
I-94 sometime soon wearing clothes made only of leaves tied together
with homemade nettle fiber cordage, throwing free-range eggs at cars.
Okaaaay,
probably not. You'll more likely see me in the Aldi parking lot
(where I park my fossil fuel powered vehicle)
and trade me my cart for a quarter. But you never can tell what the
future holds, and I think Aldi does carry free-range eggs.
Time
to go wash the sand out of my hair.
Every time we get heavy rains down here, one of the local cities sends out a letter letting residents know that the water has been contaminated by x microbes and sorry about that. We're supposed to get 5-6 inches of rain this week, so I won't be drinking any city water if we are in town for something.
ReplyDeleteAt the park we used to do our homeschooling playdates, there was a creek with the same warnings "sewer overflow". Karol fell in once and we had other errands to run. I ended up taking him to target and getting new clothes and a crap-ton of hand sanitizer because just gross.
Finally, you'd fit in great down here with regard to driving ;) I have a house to sell if you are interested.