The Waltons

I want to move in with the Waltons. My daughter and I have been watching nightly episodes of this old show and I am struck with Walton lust. Firstly, I have a wicked crush on John Boy whose homegrown country innocence I long to pierce. But even more than that, I am drawn by the world created by Olivia and Grandma filled with daily home baked pies, and breads, lusty stick-to-your ribs meals served with a smile three times a day, hand made jellies, dresses, shirts, and sweaters. Olivia is a font of kindness and gentle wisdom. The seven children walk to the one room school house, sometimes barefoot, hardly quarrel, and do daily chores without complaint. Grandpa smokes ham and works the sawmill with Pa who hunts for extra food with Reckless the dog. Nobody drinks too much or yells. Olivia serves the children fresh baked cookies and milk (from the cow out back) when they get home from school. The children roam the forests, streams, and lakes, fall in love, write poetry, help any strangers.

The Waltons carbon footprint is small. Isn't this the life we are striving for now? They have one truck that often fails so end up walking alot. There is NO garbage. Food scraps are composted or reused, paper burned, no plastic wrapping or paper napkins. They make their own soap from natural ingredients, can tomatoes from the garden, share ONE bathroom (that's for 11 people!! Maybe Grandpa uses the outhouse out back for privacy.) Despite living in Virginia during the depression, the Waltons show no signs of racism or anti-semitism and hope that all of their children go to college someday; even the girls.

But, is this back to the land life what I really want? Somedays, grandma must have to skin squirrels and possums for her famous stew. Olivia makes her own sausages, cleans the butchered hog, plucks chickens clean before roasting of the wood stove. Wet laundry is pulled through rollers, hung to dry, then ironed; not only dresses and shirts, but underwear (when lucky enough to have), towels, and sheets. Hands must get chapped in winter. We hardly ever see Olivia or Grandma outside of the house. Oh, how I would miss reading which we also never see the women doing. And what about those seven children, all born at home, with nothing but grandma's herbs to ease the pain.

I'll take the homeade bread, air laundered sheets, John Boy and fresh cream but not without my books, yoga classes, feminism, and tofu (not possum) stew.