Saturday Morning Ramble

Silence fills every corner of the house, making the morning seem like something from the past, before all the technology we have, before all the noises we have from those inventions that are said to save us time. Sometimes I just embrace the modern world full on and other times like today, I so long to get away from them. Longing for less of these "tools" that so often make us soft. I will think about this as I sweep the floors, and then mop them, no vacuum here, just a broom and a mop for the floors. I will mix my bread dough by hand and not with some noisy machine, although I do have one, a recent gift from my beloved. I do use it, but just not today with this mood I am in that draws me back to the past where I so often feel more comfortable. I love to do things the old fashioned way and I am not always sure why. Maybe it comes from all the history I read or the trips to so many New England museums, or from listening to my grandmother tell stories of her life and the way of life for her parents and grandparents. I would rather sit on a braided rug, made out of old coats then to sit on a fine expensive rug. I would rather drink out of a pewter mug than a fancy tea cup. I would rather sit and read by candle light in the evening by the fire than to head off to see the city lights.

I would rather grasp the idea of neighbors helping neighbors than worry about daily politics.

Cooking on the woodstove with heavy cast iron cookware is far more pleasurable to me than eating some gourmet meal at a fine restaurant.

Picking beautiful produce from my garden while the birds sing, sun bonnet on my head, long skirt picking up the dirt along its hem, is far more delightful than shopping in the grocery store.

Oh of course I know about the hardships that came with the days gone by, but you know, the good things from the past, they are still good today.

Think I will have a nice quiet old fashioned day, all day long.

The Simple Joys
They miss so much who do not know
The simple joys of long ago.
The quiet hour, the easy pace,
A path to walk, a day to face.
A small white flower, a bird that sings,
The Happiness in the little things.
The patience for a task, well done,
The gift of rest at set of sun.
The thankful heart, the lift of care,
A friend nearby, a time of prayer.
How much they miss who do not know
The simple joys found long ago.
~Amy Perrin~