You have probably been in that place that so many of us know, that desert of post-Internet remorse. Maybe you had just planned on quickly checking your Facebook, or e-mail, or looking up a tiny bit of information to answer a question. But somehow, 3 hours later, you resurfaced, gasping back into reality like a half-drowned rat, wondering where the time went, marveling at the novel-length browser history you had just accumulated, and feeling a deep sense of frustration, wasted time, and guilt.
Before I got married, I spent many nights this way, suddenly slamming shut my laptop, rubbing my exhausted eyes, and dropping into bed at some ungodly hour of the night, realizing that I'd wasted time, again, on the Internet. I hated how it made me feel, but I kept doing it. I imagine a lot of us do.
But when Andrew and I got to establish a new home (and when we get our eventual homestead), we decided that the Internet was not going to be a part of it. It could be at the library, or at work, or in a coffee shop, but not in our actual house. Why would we make such a crazy move? Read on for the top 5 reasons why we have jettisoned the Internet from our home, and why we're never looking back.
I mentioned our unique relationship with our awesome in-house spider a few posts back. Even though our northerly state has already had a frost, she's still alive and well in our kitchen, hanging out and randomly changing her colors, apparently. SUPER FESTIVE.
Now that all the flies are gone for the year (we all rejoice!) we've been plucking bugs from our firewood and feeding her. Part of me wants to catch her and release her into the wild so she can naturally die with the next frost like all the other spiders did, or maybe have one last chance to find Mr. Kitchenspider...but we're really fond of her.
I'm sure we're creating some sort of spidery existential crisis. She'll start weaving angsty poetry into her morning webs, then sit in the curtain bracket where she usually spends the day like that person at the coffee shop who just never leaves. She'll offer her opinions and theories to the cellar-spiders who keep trying to usurp her domain (they fail. They're lame), then moodily sigh that, "I guess it's just too deep for you to understand."
We are a husband and wife who are trying to live simply. We are learning much as we transition from life in the city to life in the country. Come along with us, and maybe you can also learn a thing or two as well.
We love writing for these fine folks as well!
|Simple Life Homestead||
Simple Life Homestead