Aaaaahhhhhh, small towns

She rolled up to the side door of the Fix It Shop.

"Are you Bob?" she asked.

Bob was just locking up for the day. "Yes, I'm Bob. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I saw your ad in the paper a while back, but I lost your number. I couldn't find your shop so I called the newspaper and they told me where you are. I am so happy to find you. I have a riding lawn mower and a regular mower that both need repair. Do you do pick up?"

Of course Bob does pick ups. Most folks cannot bring their large riding mowers to the shop and he has the equipment to do this service.

Mr Fixit has far too many lawn mowers, bikes, motorcyles and chain saws needing repair at this time so he may not be speedy, but he is efficient, reasonable and saves locals a drive to Rapid City.

Thank you, Mr. Fixit, for opening shop in our small town, where the newspaper knows your name and knows your address.

That Time of Year

It was not a total surprise to Bob when calls for lawn mower and chain saw repair began to flood in. After all, it is that time of year when folks want to mow their lawns and, whoops, the darn thing won't start!

Some are riding lawn mowers so Bob patiently hitches up his trailer and picks them up and returns them when finished. In the midst of the calls for Mr. Fixit, our car needed repair and he spent several days on that. So far he has managed to keep up with most work, unless he has to order parts from parts far flung. Those bikes and mowers are waiting for parts to arrive.

Now the best part of this whole past few weeks of desperate calls for service, our lawn sits un-mowed and getting longer by the day. That's just like Bob to tend to customers first. I remember when we were house hunting and the realtor would tell us that a house for sale had been owned by an electrician or a plumber, etc. In no time we discovered that the houses needing the most electrical work were for sale by an electrician and the ones with the worst plumbing were for sale by plumbers.

I remember the old story about the shoemaker. His children went barefoot while he mended shoes for clients. So much for getting our lawn mowed any time soon.

My First Day of Spring

Yesterday was the official day of Spring for me. Yesterday was the day that Bob brought out the grill from its Winter hibernation and grilled the lamb chops and baked the sweet potatoes. Ah, sweet music to me since for the next 6 months or so, I do not have to cook the meats, fish and chicken. They all taste better when cooked on the outside grill!

Now some might think that I love Bob grilling because I don't enjoy cooking. To tell the truth, I never have, never will, but for some significant reason all of the main entrees have a superior flavor to those I do in the oven, slow cooker or the frying pan. All during the cold, dark months, what I notice the most is my salmon is not as tasty. I just can't replicate the flavors of the grill even with spicing exactly the same.

So through most of the dreary winter days I put most of my effort into stews, soups and chili. On those meals I excel, and they do help to stave off the cold and dismal months of winter. But for now, hear me sing as I whip up the veggies in the kitchen. As I said, I never have enjoyed cooking. Never, never!

My thanks to whoever invented that greatest of inventions...the outside cooker. It is the best way to get the husband to be a highly valued chef.

Overheard on the Telephone

"Hello", says the voice over the telephone. "Is this Bob from the Fixit Shop?"

"Yes it is."

"Well, I was wondering if you make house calls. My four wheeler won't start and it needs some assistance."

So now I know that Bob will make house calls to service motorcycles and similar vehicles.

At this point in his new venture I have heard him only hesitate one one item, and that is sewing machines. "They are tricky and I would have to judge each one separately before I make an attempt at repair."

I learn something new each day about my Mr. Fixit. He can repair most anything. He was asked if he works on cars and he refused, saying that there are many car repair businesses in town. He wants to work on items not serviced locally. On the other hand he will do oil changes if someone uses Amsoil since he offers the product exclusively and knows first hand that it is the best synthetic available. On the bitterest of days (which we are having at this time) my car which is parked outside, starts right up. After all, we spent many years enduring the bitter cold days in Minnesota. We came to this Banana Belt of South Dakota well prepared, from the warmest of clothes, well layered, to the cold-resistant oil for all of our vehicles.

Do I have a partner that keeps me going, season through season? No doubt about it!

Yet Another Step

"When will you open?" This question keeps getting asked.

Before Wild West Wheels opens Bob has stuff to do to get the building ready. There is water to hook up, locks to change, doors to fix, windows and pipes to replace and on and on it goes.

So, in answer to some of you, he doesn't know when the shop will officially open, but he is selling his Amsoil to old and new customers and he has been repairing bikes and motorcycles. Those who have come in advance are delighted they don't have to trek up to Rapid City. That is his plan: service locally and be reasonably priced. It may not be speedy, but it will be done with skill and care.

Roof repair is another step in getting his building in shape before opening. The list goes on and on.
                                                                         Let's hear it for the patient man!

A Gift Revived

It must have been over 10 years ago when I bought Bob a birthday gift that I knew he would treasure. Over the years it gathered dust in our pole barn, the one structure that did not burn in the Alabaugh Fire. Times and circumstances change. The saying is that the only thing you can count on in this life (besides taxes and death) is change.

Our former home has turned to ashes, but a new venture has opened up in town. This almost forgotten gift now has a new home in Bob's store in town. It is on display at his Wild West Wheels store. As the store nears completion it will be lit for all to see.

It may advertise a motorcycle/bike business, but to me it will always shine as a memento of my love for this thoughtful, careful man of detail, who simply wants to provide a service locally, doing what he does best.....fixing, supplying, restoring and helping others to enjoy life.

                                                 RESTORING                                                                              TA DA!



                                                                          THANK YOU, TOM!

Bob and Bob

Here are the "boys" checking out the building that "Hot Springs Bob" purchased to start a business in Hot Springs. "Minneapolis Bob" is offering suggestions. They both agree that people in Hot Springs should not have to travel afar to have motorcycles and bikes and other items serviced. Locals should have the opportunity to purchase "wheel" items close to home, saving money on time, gas, and wear and tear on their vehicles.

So here's to the success of WWW. WILD WEST WHEELS!

Wait for it. There is much to do in fixing, cleaning and repairing the building before the store officially opens. It will be worth the wait. If your bike can't wait, contact Bob and he may take the time to tune it up for you, saving you the long-distance trip.

It all began with a dream - a dream to open a closed storefront. Then came the purchase, followed by repairs and soon there will be rental spaces available in the heart of downtown Hot Springs. In time there will be a shop to bring your wheels for tune ups. You break it, Wild West Wheels will fix it!

Here's to all the "boys" with a dream!

Living Life A La Bob

"I hate all the closed and empty buildings in town."

"Me too", I said to my husband, Bob, after our walk along the river and as we made our way back home through the main street of Hot Springs.

Our lovely town has had its issues. Our largest employer, the VA hospital on the hill, has been cutting back over the years and we have lost residents and stores. The latest blow is the nearby railroad yard closing and many of its employees reside in Hot Springs.

We moved into the town in 2007 after the Cascade Fire wiped out our home and with that horrific event Bob lost his mission of creating an off-the-grid house on land south of Hot Springs. He had spent nearly 7 years working slowly and methodically on our dream house. He never really wanted to completely finish it because as he said, "What will I do with the rest of my life?"

Back in Minneapolis Bob had a motorcycle business, sales and service, and his life had centered around bikes, restoring and racing, and the milieu of the freedom of the road. His biggest enjoyment came from fixing what was "unfixable" by the experts. He wanted to open a store in Hot Springs, sharing his expertise with the many bikers in the area, offering services not available nearby, and perhaps, in time, doing his part for the economy which at the present time is in a bit of a slump.

After several years of searching for a spot in town, he bought a building on the main street, and knowing Bob as I do, will take his time, filling the building slowly with a few businesses that will allow residents to shop locally, without the lengthy drive to the nearest large city.

Have you ever wanted something so badly that it aches deep inside? This has been rare during my lifetime, but right now in this time and place I want for my partner to succeed with his dream of helping others by repairing and restoring and recycling. Some friends have chided him and told him that at his age he should stay retired, travel and enjoy life. I know my husband. Sitting on the front porch will not bring him enjoyment. Doing work he cares about in a community he cares about will keep him vital and young.

My dream for my partner is that he does not retire until he reaches 100 or more. If he dies before then, up until that time, may he thrive doing what he does best.

Closing, closing, closing. Not Bob, he will be opening, opening, opening. Watch for it!

Rooting for Bob. Rooting for Hot Springs!

Dandelion Season

It's that time of year once again. And once again Bob is out in the yard patiently pulling dandelions, roots and all, of course. Day after day, as soon as the yellow heads pop out from the lawn, Bob is squatting and digging, one dandelion at a time.

So why does he do this? Children love them.

Bees love them.

The guy with the spray can get rid of them in no time. But, he also gets rid of our bees.

And so, my very patient husband, (who detests the pesticides and loves the bees) keeps digging the dandelions, one by one, day by day.

You gotta love his patience and his love for the bees. Well, at least I do, and in our yard in Hot Springs, SD, that is all that counts.

And the children who love them will still have plenty to go around, and so will the bees.

Strawberry Season

Our garden has flourished, what with all the rain this season. Without so much as a "how do you do", our rhubarb, asparagus and walking onions returned once again. In fact, with each rainfall the asparagus continues to supply our evening table, long after the usual season for that vegetable.

We plant tomatoes each year, along with the lettuce. But surprise, surprise, the strawberries returned, peeking out among the fresh lettuce and ever present weeds. They followed soon after the rhubarb retired for this year. For a few weeks there was one red one each day and each day Bob would pick the one and bring it in and lay it on the counter.

While we both enjoy the lettuce, onions and asparagus in our daily salad, the strawberries would continue to multiply on the counter until I would savor them. Suddenly, in the middle of July, there are numerous red berries popping up in our garden. Today I asked Bob, "Why don't you eat some of the strawberries that you picked?"

"Oh, I had one", he replied. Bob knows that I love the delicious red berries. I wonder if he saves them for me? It could be. That would be just like him. (Just one of the many reasons I married this man).

Bob to the Rescue

"Phone for you, Bob."

Friday morning in Hot Springs, SD. One of the renters of the building that Bob manages was calling.

After Bob's inspection of a water leak that slithered in next to the chimney in the apartment after weeks of almost constant rain, he dubbed it too wet to repair at the time. He needed it to dry out before he could caulk it and complete the repairs.

Not long after we came home I was retuning from the neighbors when I heard a strange sound.

"Squawk, squawk!" The unfamiliar sound came from our garden. Then I heard another sort of odd scream. It sounded near our chicken pen. I walked into our garden and found Bob on his knees talking to something hidden in the tall grasses.

"Come on, you stupid chicken. You got in there so help me get you out." Bob was carefully trying to move the chicken who was solidly stuck between the fence and the chicken pen. One thing I know about my husband after many years of marriage, is that he is patient in trying to solve a dilemma and will examine the situation carefully and, in the end, right the problem.

And he did. The chicken was rescued and without so much as a thank you she fussed and clucked her way back to the pen and disappeared into the coop. Bob re-righted the fence he had taken apart to release the trapped chicken and fenced off the hole that the chicken had blasted her way through. He then continued his mowing and other spring yard work chores.

I thought back to the numerous times during our lives together when Bob had fixed, repaired, mended, altered, shaped, developed things that made my life or the lives of friends and neighbors easier. Stuff is manageable with Bob around. He studies the problem and, if at all possible, solves it in his careful, deliberate manner.

One thing that stands out is his invention of an automatic cat feeder that was set to go off twice a day while we were on a trip. The neighbor, who checked in on our cats, just in case, stopped off at those times each day to view the cats waiting eagerly at the feeder for the allotted food to pour out.

Friends and neighbors who are aware of Bob's talents are also grateful to have Bob come to their aid, be it fixing a motorcycle or correcting a lock. If someone says, "It can't be done", Bob sees that as a challenge. I remember a visit to my Aunt Marie in Indiana in her home filled with a multitude of chiming clocks, sent to her over the years by her son. One unique, German Flying Pendulum clock was stopped. "I brought it to several clock professionals and none could fix it," she sighed. She said the magic words and during that long summer afternoon as my aunt and I admired family photos and shared stories, Bob worked on that clock. By evening it was ticking along with the rest of the cuckoos and chimers while its pendulum swung back and forth, back and forth.

"How wonderful", said my grateful aunt. When I die I want you to have the clock." Of course a year later another relative stopped, admired that clock and left Aunt Marie's home with it under his arm.

No matter. I have the most comforting and reassuring of gifts. I share my life with a man who continues to fix and invent whatever needs arise. I am blessed far more with this man at my side than sharing a wall space with an imported German clock.

The Pied Piper

Remember a previous blog about our front porch and back porch and the cats inhabiting both? The back porch was occupied by two alley cats, one of which has been with us since November of that bitter cold winter of 2013, and more recently, her black and white kitten, born before I had the opportunity to get her mother fixed.

The neighbors obese white cat lies on our front steps, occasionally walking around to the back porch to enjoy the cat food Bob puts out for the two alley cats. She needs none of it since it is obvious that she is well fed by our neighbors across the street. It appears that she likes to shove our more timid cats out of their dishes and take her place as the most dominant of neighborhood cats. (In other words, she is a bully).

Bob and I have grown fond of all three cats. They have become part of our lives and require little upkeep as they would if they were our inside cats and demanded litter changes, hair clean up and special treats.

As I glanced out of our side window today I saw Bob walking along our sidewalk with a rake, tending to outside tasks, while behind him frolicked two cats. As they neared the front porch, the white cat joined in the procession. Bob, intent on his yard work, seemed oblivious to his following.

The old fairy tale came back to me as swiftly as the three cats passing by the window. There was the Pied Piper of Hamlin, followed by the cats. Thankfully, no rats! We have none of those critters since the cats took up residence in our back yard.

I don't know about any of you, but I much rather prefer the cats to the rats, or the mice. I do miss the birds at the feeders I no longer keep filled, but there is nothing perfect in life. For now I have given up the sight and sound of numerous birds to the helpful company of two feral, mouse-chasing felines and the pushy, oversized inside/outside cat from across the street.

Everybody Loves Bob

Every week day a group of us meet for breakfast. We share the latest news, a few laughs and connect on issues that are of common interest. There are times when we do not share the same viewpoint and agree to disagree. What a joy to take time with friends who have much in common, link on that comfort level, but now and then scatter afar, take time to listen, shake up ones comfort zone and part for the week with perhaps a glimmer of a new awareness.

That is the power of the group after all. Years ago, longer than I care to admit, I began several groups during my professional career. The first one involved six to twelve year olds. I was a school counselor working in a suburban school in the Twin Cities. Each day different students stopped in my office to unburden themselves. For the most part their issues involved separated or split families. Within a few weeks I heard the same story repeated from different perspectives and ages, but with similar feelings, frustrations and concerns.

"How would you like to share your time with another student who faces some of the same problems as you relate to me?"

Surprise, surprise, each student I approached meeting with other kids with some of the same issues, jumped at the chance. No hesitation, "Oh, yes. I would like that," was the response and within a week's time I had a group of ten children from first to sixth grades, crunched in a circle on my office floor, sharing, crying, laughing and supporting one another. The comfort from discovering they were not alone was powerful, to say the least. The supportive feelings swirled around that small office and followed them down the stairs and back to their classroom and then to their homes.

The students who wanted to join that group swelled beyond what the room could contain. Within a month or two I divided the groups into grades from first through six. There was something lost with older and younger sharing the same woes, but the power of the group dynamics still continued.

Later I started parent groups, first the mothers who wanted their husbands to have a similar experience, then the men's group. Those groups continued long after my transfer to another school.

There was always a magic in all of the groups. There was a power of the many over the one, lone individual facing demons on his/her own. For me, as the counselor, their was the ability to reach more clients than on a one to one.

Today in our small breakfast group I was sharing something about some people who were angry with me over something or other I don't even recall right now. I can get rather in-your-face when I am passionate about an issue, and have earned resentment by some.

"Well, they aren't angry with Bob, are they?"

Bob was quietly eating the breakfast special and made no response.

"Everybody loves Bob," came from one voice in the group.

Oh, yeah, how true! My steadfast husband rarely sees a need for confrontation. He lives his life, true to his values. He never preaches, tries to convert or make a scene. He simply is who he is. He is one of the most grounded persons I have ever known. He is my rock and example. Some teach, some preach. Others try to convert. Bob lives his life. No wonder my friend believes that everyone loves Bob.

I am not sure about everyone, but I am very sure about me.

Being Spoiled

What a switch! I recently wrote that at our age my husband and I do only token gift exchanging, having too many things to clutter our lives. Well, surprise, surprise. This year Bob requested that we not attend any holiday gatherings, but stay at home. (One exception was one guest included in our quiet holiday at home.)

After early morning skypeing with our children and grandchildren, Bob disappeared into the kitchen, creating a marvelous Christmas dinner. He allowed no admittance to me and managed to create a feast for kings. I did set the table and did the dishes after, but it was a special gift to be banished from the kitchen for the day.(I have never been overly fond of cooking, especially for guests and holidays.)

In addition to this pampering I opened a gift of a beautiful necklace set, fit for a queen, and was escorted to the back yard where Bob had been working all week, out of my view, on a CHICKEN COOP for our garden. We will get 3 or 4 chickens that will enrich our soil with fertilizer, devour all grasshoppers and annoying insects, mice and other unwelcome critters, but, best of all, furnish us and our neighbors with healthy eggs from free-roaming chickens.

Bob is going to purchase Icelandic chickens, hardy and suitable for this weather, as well as feisty fighters against predators. I also received a small incubator to hatch about 4 chickens. Bob remembered that during my teaching days I often hatched chickens in my classroom as part of a science project. It was the highlight of the science unit for the students and also, this very enthused teacher.

What fun! What a husband! What a Christmas to remember! It was my year to be indulged...something I never expected at this senior time of life.

During 2015 I will keep my readers in the "chicken loop" of my life. Keep tuned!

Time May Heal

For years after the devastating Alabaugh Fire of 2007 in which we lost most of our possessions and home, Bob and I stopped going to auctions. In my first book, A (not so) Simple Life, I wrote a chapter about auctions and my addictions to them. Bob and I had furnished much of our house with antiques purchased at auctions. Attending them had been a refreshing break for Bob from his work of building our retirement home.

Then came the fire that wiped out that very special "off the grid" house and Bob lost all enthusiasm for auctions. When I would coax him with an ad announcing one he would say, "I lost patience for them". And, indeed, if we did go to one on occasion, we left within a few minutes.

Last week there was an auction two blocks from our house. The sign outside was difficult to ignore as we passed it every day. On the day of the event we stopped for a few minutes, and, to no surprise, we left after a brief scan of the items. I had business to attend to and when I came home later Bob was not there.

It was late when he came home. He hitched the trailer to the car and disappeared again. A short time later he returned. The trailer was filled with several items, one of which was a lawn mower. It was obvious that he had gone back to the auction.

The next day Bob was out mowing the lawn. It looked especially nice. "Why did you get a lawn mower?" I asked. "You already have two."

It turned out that this was a special mower and quite new. It not only mowed, but it mulched the leaves and grass. No more raking and the mulch was good for the grass! As usual, Bob had looked for some deals and had managed to snag a few. Some of his auction patience had returned. Shock after any trauma has long-term effects, but, in time, some of the small joys in life do return. I have seen it in both of us, and for that I am grateful.

What's Up?

Yes, it is one bleak November. Well, at least for us in the southern Hills. We are used to more days of sunshine than in much of the rest of the country.

Our Christmas cactus is beginning to bloom. That is the one that bloomed over and over last year, lasting until after Valentines Day. Our smaller cactus is in full bloom, but in a few days it will be done for the year.

Bob brought home a small orchid yesterday. What a treat during the dreary November days! He also bought a colorful Mexican, decorative wall hanging. It shows the moon saying goodnight to the sun with a kiss, no less. Bob knows how to brighten up any day.

I am lining up interviews for Reveille in Hot Springs. We are in a time bind to save our rural VA hospitals and benefits for our veterans. I have done several interviews, with some more to come, but none of these will gain us national media, which we sorely need. Many residents of Hot Springs are sending copies of the books to friends and relatives throughout the country, hoping that someone, somewhere will notice our battle. It is difficult with so many books and so many battles out there at this time. Whatever we do, we do for our veterans. They deserve to have their voices heard, but will anyone listen before it is too late? We are in the "fly-over-zone" in more ways than one. The two coasts are wrapt up in their issues, but they do get major attention from the press.

So, we are in the bleak November, but we continue fighting and hoping. Sometimes it seems as if that is all we have left..... the fight and holding on to hope, and someone to bring home an orchid and a cheerful, hand-painted plaque.

Never Say Never

Do not...I repeat...do not say no one can fix it to my husband. Over the years I have come to dread when someone tells him that they brought it to the professionals and they said that it couldn't be done.

Those words seem to trigger something deep inside of Bob. I guess it is a challenge of sorts to someone who has a keen, inquisitive mind, especially regarding all things mechanical.

Three examples come to mind:

We had a favorite restaurant in Minneapolis. If it was filled we might be seated in a section that had the air conditioning ducts blowing on us. The cold air could dampen an otherwise delicious meal. I complained to the waiter and his response was, We have had many complaints. We had the pros check it and they cannot adjust it. Those words were a dare to my challenged spouse and the next day, when the restaurant was closed, was all the time he needed to fix the problem. The manager was so grateful that he did not need to lose customers to that section that Bob and I had free meals for a year. That was a win-win.

A few years later we were visiting my Aunt Marie in Indiana. Her home was filled with interesting clocks that her son had sent her from Germany during his years stationed there. One especially unique one, called the Flying Pendulum, was not working. I brought it to several clock experts and none could repair it, my aunt complained. While she and I spent a pleasant afternoon reminiscing and looking through family photos, Bob worked patiently and persistently on the clock. By dinner time it was ticking along with the dozen other clocks. My aunt was so pleased that she promised the clock to Bob after she died. Within a few months other relatives admired that very special clock, unnoticed when it was still, and it was gifted to them.. That was not a win-win, but Bob was pleased that he could meet that challenge and that was what mattered to him.

A few days ago Bob showed me a cell phone that he had rescued from a soggy gutter on main street in Hot Springs. He knows next to nothing about cell phones but he brought it home, cleaned out the water and the mud and in two days he had it working so that I could text someone on the list to get a number for the owner. I would have dumped it, but Bob knew that someone out there would be upset by losing everything on the phone, plus, it had 300 some days left on it.

This is one of the many reasons I chose to spend my life with this thoughtful, caring person. He is never too busy to help someone in need of assistance, and quietly gives of his time and curiosity to make this world a little better place and, in doing so, makes my place in this life richer by knowing him.

Bob's Bounty

After a summer of digging, planting, weeding and copious watering, Bob's garden is paying off big time.

It reminds me of a story. Our neighbor grew a huge zuccini crop. Every one who passed by was offered a zuccini or two. After a time no one passed by. Then our neighbor went around the block with his little red wagon, knocking on doors, offering zuccini to those who opened up to him. The day soon came when the neighbors stopped answering their doors.

We have produce overflowing on our kitchen cabinets. We have given zuccini and cucumbers to everyone who stops over. We even offered some to a salesman who showed up on his yearly visit. I have used every zuccini and cucumber recipe I know. I am beginning to think I should freeze or dry some of the bounty.

The tomatoes are less of a problem, but even they are starting to arrive in numbers that are beginning to overtake our needs. They are easier to unload than the zuccini, that is for sure. I asked Bob why he planted so many zuccini when I remember purchasing only one plant. He replied that a friend had given him four or five plants in the spring and he didn't know what they were so he planted them all.

Is there a lesson here?

What I do know is that I love fresh home grown veggies, and I am happy to share the fruit of my husband's hard labor.

Where's the Water?

Early mornings are never my best, most alert moments, so when I flushed the toilet early last Friday I barely noticed that the water gurgled, rather than flushed. On to the kitchen and I poured my glass of water and filled the cat's water dish from the water purifier spout. I began making our breakfast and then turned on the regular water faucet. No water! One sigh and gasp from that taken-for-granted spigot, and then, nothing.

A water main must be broken but I carried on fixing morning nourishment since we had a five hour trip to Colorado and another five hours return facing us that day. My always resourceful husband hurried down to the river with two large buckets. He met another person who was like-minded and told Bob that the spring in town had a long line and so he came to the river for his water.

We returned home that night to running water. Was it only five years earlier when we were not dependent on the city or power companies for water or any utilities other than telephone? We have traded independence for convenience in our present life in the city. I remembered when a powerful spring snow storm took out the power lines in the country. We did not notice anything amiss. Our water came from our cistern rain water, our lights from our solar panels and our refrigeration and heat from the propane tank. Our radio announced that the power was out all over the county. It remained out for about two weeks. Generators were chugging along in homes during that time. We never did use our back-up generator. We had sufficient power from the energy of the sun behind the grey clouds and warmth from our cheerful wood stove in the basement.

It was a liberating feeling, living off of the grid. I wrote about it in my first book, "A (not so) Simple Life". The Alabaugh Fire took away that life for now. It is easier living in town with everything handy, but on days like Friday, when the water was silent, I remembered fondly our days when we returned to our rustic roots and were liberated, for a brief moment in our lives, from dependence on those major monopolies.