In the evenings, after the kids are in bed and the dishes are done (not by me–that’s what high schoolers are for) and my classes are complete and I’ve shut down the computer, when I’m ready to brush and floss and climb into bed for a muchmuchmuch deserved rest, I prop up my two pillows on the headboard, snuggle under the blankets (even when it’s warm out) and pick up a book.
My husband says he doesn’t understand it, no matter how many times I tell him this is how I sharpen my saw, no matter how many studies I quote that indicate that looking at an illuminated screen immediately prior to retiring can have an adverse effect on the quality of one’s sleep. I spend so much of my day tending to the needs of others, thinking about paperwork and deadlines and schedules, planning out projects and envisioning plans, that the respite of lying in bed quietly and allowing someone else to take the lead is refreshing.
Usually, it’s fiction. That one really gets him going (to the point that one of my dearest friends nearly took him to the mat in defense of literature’s inherent value, prompting her husband to point out: “Honey, not your marriage.”). Reading a story that has nothing to do with my life–or even something deeply to do with it–offers a dreamy escape. And I’m convinced that what I learn from those characters, how they see the world, how they challenge my view of the world, comes with me into slumber and helps me to process my day better, see my way more clearly, and wake up with renewed interest in doing all the things I do each day. Because, for real: some days, you roll out of bed and you just. don’t. care. I need me an antidote, and if I can get it from something as pure and honest as a book? Well. I have gradually brought him around to my way of thinking, though he still prefers non-fiction to fiction. Something about the male need to constantly be “productive” and moving toward a goal. Which I get, but I find backing away and taking stock a goal in itself.
I read non-fiction, too. But much of it is about ideas rather than practice. I don’t always feel the need to read about a plan to improve so much as I crave a perspective that challenges my own. A lot of my non-fiction reading is about food–that was the realm of my graduate work, after all–and occasionally, when I’m on a serious tear, about sewing. But it’s the philosophical pieces I like best, the ones that give kernels of concepts that I can chew on for days or weeks or longer afterward.
Right now, it’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and I am enamored. Living in this rental house, I have been dreaming of finding our Forever House. Never mind that I thought we had, but then it turned out we didn’t get it (twice–same house). I have been picturing in my head how we would use the space at a house where we knew we’d be living for twenty-some-odd years, and where we’d put the chicken coop that I continue to insist I cannot live without, and how we’d fit enough fruit bushes and trees to keep my family in jam and fresh berries all year long. There isn’t space for all those things at the rental–and why would I spend the time putting them in when I’m going to have to abandon them? after the heartbreak of leaving both my gardenia and my English boxwood behind at the old house, I’m not sure I could take the devastation again–but I still lie in bed each night and read of a year spent feeding a family locally, growing abundance in the backyard, harvesting mushrooms down the holler, and learning to love food from a new light.
KarynAugust 10, 2011 at 2:43 pm
I listened to Animal, Vegetable, Miracle on audio tape, narrated by the author. I can’t even express how much I loved it. It is a book full or information and a perspective that will stay with me forever. If you haven’t already, I recommend reading Barbara Kingsolver’s latest book, The Lacuna as well.
Jo @ a life in listsAugust 10, 2011 at 3:46 pm
I was so impressed with Animal, Vegetable, Miracle when I read it. We’re in a rental too, and I cnstantly debate investing more time and energy in our garden to become more self sufficient while being fully aware that at any moment we could be given our notice. No way we can afford to buy though!
Amanda GaskinAugust 10, 2011 at 6:52 pm
I happen to be reading this right now myself. I bought it when it first came out, forgot I had it, and recently stumbled across it. She is living the dream for many of us, no doubt. I dream of being a more avid gardener. I did plant a veggie garden with the kids but the yield has been small except for tomatoes. Even my zucchini failed to grow. So far, I have harvested a bunch of tomatoes, 4 strawberries, a 1-2 person serving of sugar snaps and green beens, one yellow squash, and one spaghetti squash. One thing I will do next year is plant more of each kind of plant. I am sorry to hear that you did not get the house you were hoping for. You bring encouragement and pleasure to so many with your blog, store, and books–you must be due for some good house luck soon!
Jennifer at Ellison Lane QuiltsAugust 10, 2011 at 8:58 pm
Always love your posts Deborah.
Kelli DaileyAugust 11, 2011 at 1:13 pm
I so, so loved that book. I feel like it honestly changed my life – or at least my eating habits. I’m definitely not a stickler (I still buy bananas, for example), but I definitely pay attention to what’s local, what’s seasonal, what’s sustainable. I don’t always make the best choices, but I definitely make better choices after reading that book. I, too, LOVE to read before bed. Ahhh – what could be a more relaxing way to end the day?
Rachel at Stitched in ColorAugust 11, 2011 at 2:29 pm
That book is a gem. I’ve read it twice and would read it again. I need to read her other books too, as I’m sure she has a lot more to say.
Also, this year our garden was a complete flop, read complete waste of time. But, at least the ducks are keeping us in eggs!
KimAugust 11, 2011 at 2:59 pm
Me, too, me, too, me, too!!! All of it, every last little bit of it, except the rental house and teenage dishwasher!