This is the time of year I find it really hard to justify staying in Michigan for the next 10 years. . . the hills around St. Remy beckon and the spirit, if not the body, is more than willing to participate in the grape and lavender harvests. I would live, happily, without a car, preferably above a bakery. The walking would certainly mitigate the extra calories. I'd take my bicycle to the market and I'd spend time sketching the countryside or writing.
Interestingly, we had old friends in from "up north" this week, and the topic of our children and their lives came up, as it always does. They have a son and niece who are "freegans." I have never heard this term before, so they explained. These young people live in a commune together where they all pool resources. They walk dogs to pay the rent and utility bills, but everything else they need is traded for, or they buy it resale. They eschew anything new--including shoes--and they get all their food from dumpsters. They find perfectly good things thrown away all the time. Additionally, the house is substance-free (something you tell your parents to calm them down.) Now, I don't think I'm longing for a lifestyle that radical, but these kids are onto something, I think.
And this time of year, my mind wanders to the far ends of how to live.
2 comments:
Do your friends’ kids live in Seattle? When I was there last summer (and got hit on the head by that unidentified object) the Seattle Weekly profiled a group just like that. Frankly, diving into dumpsters for food kind of made me sick.
And yes, when you know there are places like the South of France, San Diego, or even parts of Florida, staying up here amongst the brown sticks and mud of the Midwest sometimes seems like wasting one’s life. This feeling always strikes me around Thanksgiving and lasts for approximately six months.
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