Yes we have indoor plumbing, we have indoor plumbing today

Note: I admit my blog this week falls very short of the assigned analysis; but the readings stirred many important memories for me and I wanted to honor my innovative farming Grandmother who taught me most of my essential life skills and how to live the best life you could under constrained conditions.

I am very, very drawn to our current regional, local color readings. My maternal great-great-grandparents and their respective families migrated to Kansas from Ireland because they were starving and could no longer make a living off the land. My great-grandparent's families in the late 1800s migrated West to Dayton, WA, from Kansas. For my maternal family, the land depicted their worth, their lifeline, their social standing, their everything.

The land had failed the family in Ireland and had been slightly better to them in Kansas. But the opportunity of their lifetime came when friends told them they could buy productive, cheap, plentiful acreage in Washington State--this land opportunity was the sole motivator for them to move their families West by covered wagon. Once West, members of Grandpa and Grandpa's families bought hundreds of acres of prime property outside of what we now call Blue Wood Ski Resort and they farmed it. When my grandparents eventually married, they accumulated more property to farm more, so they could acquire more property, so they could farm more...buying and working the land was the single-minded focus for everyone on my maternal side of the family from the 1910s into the 1980s.

My role-model Grandmother, who bore 8 children, kept a home, helped substantially on the farm early to late each day, and was a part-time LPN to boot, told me many times it was the accepted norm to have large families, in part, to have plenty of help on the farm and ensure the farming legacy would continue. In their world, which I spent 10 summers of my growing up years, was entirely geared to supporting the rigorous farming lifestyle.

When reading The Revolt of Mother, it was though I was back in my grandparent's home listening to very familiar conversations. The family conversations were always totally immersed in the happenings on the farm. My Grandmother did most of the talking; my Grandfather actually grunted or spoke in one syllable word, brief sentences. I don't recall a single conversation between my grandparents that wasn't about happenings on the farm or upcoming plans for the same.

When Grandma decided she had enough nighttime trips to the outhouse, they had an indoor bathroom installed when Grandpa was in Montana with neighboring friends, also farmers, who were also considering new-fangled tractors. Grandma had the contractor (my dad) lined out to come in and install the new-fangled indoor toilet and bath during Grandpa's two-day absence. And that is what happened.

In support of my Grandma's necessary tenacity, I would never have had a "Stop Fool!" conversation with her or with any Mother or Grandmother who took important people matters into their own hands.

Instead my conversation would go something like this:

"Mother. Another barn! Are you kidding me? Doesn't Father care if the animals are living a better life than us? Why are they so much more important than we are? I have had it. If you don't have the nerve to say something or do something, I will."
Mother: "What are you suggesting?"
"I am saying I am going to do something."

And then I would have....