Frontier Life, circa 1883

Something a little different today:  no recipes, just some thoughts. 

Have you ever heard of the PBS documentary series "Frontier House"?  It's was first aired 11 years ago, but we've watched it on DVD, and in re-runs.  It follows three families who apply and are selected to go to a remote frontier location in Montana for five months and homestead it as if they were living in 1883; so using only the tools and technology of the time.  They wear 1883 clothing, they have to (some of them) build their own cabins (with hand saws and axes), cook on a wood stove, take care of their farm animals, and even attempt to store up enough provisions to survive the winter.  Before they are sent out, they are given extensive training in exactly how to manage day to day life in 1883--think:  how to get by without toilet paper, Tylenol, ibuprofen, and feminine supplies, how to kill and dress out a chicken, how to chop wood, and milk a cow.

It's a great show.  Full of interpersonal drama of course, but for me, the part I really love is the way it gives me perspective, and drags my ideal fantasy about what life was like back then into the harsh light of day.  Here are a few examples:  mice.  Oh yeah.  Thank you Lord for a house where I can sleep undisturbed by the nightly escapades of MICE running around!  Ew.  And, ah yes...a topic dear to my little heart: dishes.  Seriously.  Thank you Lord for hot water that comes out of a tap, whenever I want it.  And for even the most basic thing: dish soap...and, a DISHWASHER!  And electric lights.  And heat.  And air conditioning. And toilet paper.  Thank you Lord for all these amazing gifts.

God must be speaking to my heart about these things, because at the very same time when "Frontier House" happened to air again (right now), I had the urge to pull out and re-read a book that my grandmother wrote many years ago about her life as a child, growing up on a homestead in North Dakota during the depression.  My great-grandfather, get this: immigrated from Norway, along with his brother (not his parents), and came to America seeking a new life of opportunity, when he was...FOURTEEN years old!  The man worked in the logging industry until he had enough money to purchase a team of horses, and head west.  Self-reliant, resourceful, and independent, he homesteaded land, busted sod, grew wheat, trapped and hunted.  Along with my great grandma, they grew all their own food in the garden (AND preserved food for winter!), raised and milked cows, and raised chickens, and sheep, and pigs, hand-washed clothes, and hung them out on a line, heated the water to wash clothes and dishes on a wood stove, cooked every meal, from scratch, and washed every dish by hand, cleaned the house, sewed all their clothes, and raised 4 daughters during the great depression.  Dude.  People were tough back in the day.  I.  Mean.  TOUGH.  I'm trying to imagine what that kind of hard work even looks like.  I'm not sure I could even survive that kind of life.

I don't know about you, but I tend to romanticize about how I would have loved to live in an earlier time, when people were more decent, and respectful, and gentle, and kind, and polite; before the harsh and cruel day-to-day things that plague us as a society today:  terrorism, drug abuse, violence of all kinds....these things are so common today that sadly, I'm not even shocked anymore when see them in the news.  And I'm still not saying that I wouldn't rather have lived back then.  But...it does give me pause to consider the practical, everyday luxuries in my life here and now that I take for granted.  No more crying over dishes for me.  And thank you, THANK YOU(!) Lord, for toilet paper.

My Great-grandpa Olaf, with his four daughters, heading to church in his car, the Durrant.