I'm not sure how to break this to you.
Those of you who knew me Before the Blog are maybe already realizing that something is desperately wrong. Or desperately right. Or just desperate. For you, the last two years have been one long Chicken Little moment if ever there was one. You've probably started building a bunker or something. The rest of you? You've taken all this in stride and are blissfully unaware that the world as we know it is ending.
There, I've said it.
The world as we know it is ending because if people like me are canning tomatoes and raising chickens, well... I don't know what.
People like me go on ski vacations and subscribe to the opera and have cake and coffee at four promptly and have a fondness for music festivals that are not at a county fair. We listen to techno (sorry, Sarah, it's true). We shop at Whole Foods because it looks and sounds more delicious than the painfully pedestrian Giant. We buy organic food because it is prettier and more expensive. We buy smaller cars because they are sportier, easier to park and less likely to draw the attention of someone who needs help moving. We did not buy them because they use less gas, although that's really paying off.
What I'm trying to say here is that if The Growing of One's Own Food and the Avoidance of Stuff Accumulation is appealing to someone like me, it's obviously become a popular mindset. Like knitting.
Our chickens are two years old. The vegetable garden is going into its fourth season. How long has this mentality been shifting, anyway? And why?
Chris and I were driving through town the other day and noticed a parking lot full of unsold Christmas trees. It made us kind of sad. And then it made us kind of not sad. It made us feel like things are swinging a little more into balance.
People like me are not particularly comfortable with the idea of Doing Without. We don't like the idea of living in a yurt (although we would summer in one if it were nicely appointed and had Egyptian Cotton sheets). We don't like the idea of living off rice and beans hidden away in our basements. We do like the idea of creatively incorporating rice and beans into our meal plans, if it's our idea.
Yes, we are shallow. But we are part of something bigger. And if that something bigger involves a shiny new pressure canner and an ornamental chicken or two, so be it.
Subsistance farming. It's the new knitting.