Oh how I yearn to live a simple life. One without chaos, or business, or screechy electronics. Granted, I usually make my own drama cause I can't keep my mouth shut, and I pretty much am to blame when I am super busy all the time...but the electronics, that's not my fault.
I want that simple life where you and your family can get in your plane and run away to the place where you wake up every morning when you want to, because its nice and quiet, and the only "noise" is dogs barking for their morning meal.
Then someone puts perfect rainwater on the stove and boils it for three whole minutes, just in case, and then pours it over some Folger's coffee.
And even though you don't drink camp coffee, you wouldn't wake up without that telltale smell and cool crisp air from a fire well past its burn.
The simple life that includes fluffy blueberry sourdough hotcakes sizzling on the stove in a cast iron skillet, because that's the only way to make them. Kids sleepy eyed coming out of their sleeping bags like yearling bears coming out of hibernation smelling coffee and hotcakes and bacon or spam.
The life where after breakfast, you don't mind doing the dishes, because it's not rushed and you can take your time looking out the picture window at the waves rolling and crashing on the beach as my kids tease them and get their toes wet in anticipation of the next big wave.
The willows turning yellow slowly and the squirrels chirping while the wind blows the smell of tundra into the house. Pretty soon, you wish there were more dishes to do because it is so peaceful sitting at the kitchen table with your rain water dishpans washing, drying and wiping clean.
The life where you choose what you're going to do each day based on how the berries are doing, or if its sunny, or if the caribou are fat, or how many fish are in the net, or if you just want to play on the beach with the kids again and find rocks/shells/starfish.
The life where you eat what you caught/picked that day for dinner, and hopefully your 13 year old son and his 13 year old cousin caught some ducks so we can actually EAT dinner that doesn't include spam, or cup-o-noodles. And then as they are walking back home you breathe a sigh of relief because he showed up with three ducks and plopped them on the table, without saying a word, then starts cutting wood, cause its getting kind of chilly in the evenings.
I want to live the life where after dinner, you sip on your hot tang and haul more rain water into the Sauna where your husband has made it nice and steamy in anticipation of your coming in to relax. Then you sit in there and think of absolutely nothing while your pores sweat away the City toxins. And your mind clears away the bad juju.
And when you go to bed, the simple life allows you to dictate your bedtime based on if you can get your gas lantern to work or how dark it is with candlelight while your kids read Archie comics and you stare at them because that's what you used to do when you were a kid, and it was the best life ever.
And it still is. Between Friday and Sunday anyway.