Did you ever read the Little House series? Remember The Long Winter? That one was always my favorite of the bunch. It reads almost like a kiddie horror novel for mollycoddled suburban children. It starts off so innocently, with a hot summer day out in the fields, and then gradually descends into a battle to the death between the homesteaders and a heartless, endless winter. Duh duh duhhhhhhh!!!! No matter how hard my life might be, it could never reach that level of complete suck. We may have recently had a dangerous polar vortex, but we also have central heat, the internet, and indoor plumbing. Indoor plumbing, I just love you so much. Call me.
That book kept running through my head this morning as I chaperoned a 4th grade field trip. Someone please tell me what I was smoking when I signed up to chaperone an outdoor field trip in January? My whole plan for the winter was to stay as warm as possible to avoid a repeat of The Great Jaw Spasm of 2013, and I’m outside in 15 degree temps for two hours tramping through eight inches of ice-encrusted snow cutting down buckthorn? It’s several hours later and I can finally feel my toes again, though my chronic AAS suffered a horrific flare-up and my brain is still a little chilled around the edges.
I would have been a terrible pioneer homesteader. If the zombies ever come, I’m heading as far south as possible, just so I don’t have to fight the elements as I’m fighting the undead. That is, unless I am forced to throw myself in the path of the zombie horde in order to save my family; I figure my healthy brain and
large nutritious ass are guaranteed to give my men a fighting chance to escape. This evening Tom and I were shucking popcorn off cobs…just like the pioneers used to do, except I got mine from a CSA and we don’t plan on using the cob remnants as Charmin substitutes…and this very topic came up.
Me: “I would have been a terrible pioneer woman. It would not have gone well.”
Tom: “Oh my god you would have been horrible. You never would have made it. You would have been a corpse on the side of the Oregon Trail. You would have been a little skull & crossbones on the computer screen.”
Me: “Well. See if I throw myself in front of any zombies to save your ass then.”
So to all my pioneer ancestors, thanks for getting me to this point. I never could have done it, and am grateful you covered that era of history for me. I’ll think of you fondly under my electric blanket, cranked to scald.
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