It's a little difficult to come back to present day, long enough to write. I have spent at least eight hours so far marathoning a British archaeology show called Absolute History, carrying it around on my iPad while I cooked and cleaned the kitchen, while I soaked in the bath, and gave myself a pedicure. Now it's on the TV, and I'm still not sick of it. This season I'm watching is set on an Edwardian farm on the border between Devon and Cornwall, and it is the absolute best thing ever. Although it shows a lot of really cool methods of doing things, so far I have survived the day without thinking I needed to try to recreate their attempts. This is progress. Growth as an adult. I'm rather proud of my restraint.
I tell you, watching how hard they had to work to keep their houses clean, their animals healthy, their household fed, and to acquire the slightest little luxuries makes me feel quite spoiled. It doesn't mean I'll give up my Instant Pot or filtered water or electric adjustable-base, memory foam bed. Definitely not giving up my heated shower and indoor plumbing. But it is still interesting to watch these charming people survive a whole year living rough like it was 1910, as just a few mechanized inventions altered their landscape.
Things are quiet here tonight. The Mr and the pups are up the mountain, living almost as rough as the folks on my TV. It's just me and the cats and two sets of fish to care for (our goldfish pond and T's aquarium). I got the rest day that I needed after yesterday. I guess that means I'll have to make myself useful tomorrow. I'll worry about that when the time comes.
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