Another Weekend Away

As much as I love these weekends away without Internet, it really does leave a major pile of "to-dos" for when I return home. This weekend was spent with my grandmother at the beach and was incredibly relaxing and worthwhile. The older she gets, the more I cherish the moments with her and the wisdom she instills in me. One of my aunts and cousins came over on Sunday evening and it was great just spending time catching up.

I spent several hours on Saturday and Sunday attempting to sand down an old desk that I've had in storage over at the beach house. The desk was originally made by the boyfriend of my granny's sister. It was used by my father when he was younger, my sister, and finally was passed onto me when my granny was clearing out her house after my grandfather's passing. The desk itself is large with wonderful shelves but it also makes it a challenge when it comes to removing paint. I had originally attempted to strip the 2-3 coats of paint and finish but the stripping agent just created a huge mess. Not to mention I kept thinking of how horribly toxic the fumes and the thick liquid are for my health, and what to do with all the gunk once I'd stripped it? So instead I pulled out Dad's sander and spent two days just sanding down to the stain. Sometime in the next month or two before we close the house for the winter, I'll need to go back and do the finishing sanding so that I can finally bring the desk to my house for usage.

As I was sanding, I couldn't help but look up in awe at the beautiful view we have from the ridge of the hill the beach house resides on. Even when it was pouring down rain, I was still protected in the garage, surrounded by years of past projects and the numerous tools that were held in the hands of many of the industrious men in my family. I saw the shelf Dad created me for a previous apartment made from the loft bed he'd made for my dorm room. I saw the saw and lathe used by my brother to make beautiful gifts for family. I remembered years of watching my brother, father, and grandfather cut, nail, screw, measure, etc in order to add on rooms to the house and remodel what had previously existed. I re-lived helping Dad on one of his most recent projects. And with my hands stuck in Poppa's gloves, I felt protection from the spiders crawling around as I searched for the tools I needed on his benches. :-) But really most importantly, I felt so glad that while I still like my dangly earrings and shiny shoes, I am also happy to use a hammer, haul wood inside, and sand for hours in order to get the result I desire.

On the drive back this afternoon, I started thinking......about how strange it would be to not know how to do some of those things. I feel there is MUCH to learn about how to survive off the land and how to really get by....but I feel so grateful for the things that I do know, for the experiences I've had in my life, for the experiences taught to me by all four of my grandparents. And I have to wonder what it is like for individuals who have grown up never having any of those experiences. What is it like to not know how to catch a fish? What is it like to not know how to make a birdhouse or to cut a piece of wood? What is it like to not have seen a dead deer, or to have never picked berries, or made jam, or chopped wood? What is it like to have missed out on so much.....of self-sufficiency and existence?

Some would argue that we don't need to know how to do those things anymore, that technology will solve all our problems, etc etc. But how incredible to feel that connection to our history and to recognize that technology or not, sometimes it's just easier or more fulfilling to do it for one's self.....and to actually recognize the worth of the thing being created, produced, or consumed.