Dolly Freed–who you might have seen here, or here, or here, or here–hadn’t been heard from for awhile (for the whole story, check out Paige Williams’ piece, “Finding Dolly Freed“). All that has changed. Dolly’s been kind enough to give up her dial-up connection and has begun blogging at her new website. I’ve included her first post after the jump, but bookmark her page for all your possum-lifestyle needs.
Dragged Kicking and Screaming Into The 21st Century
Back in 1978, when I was 18, I wrote a book on living frugally and happily. At the time, there was a raging recession, imploding job markets, and rampant concerns about foreign competition and natural resources. Meanwhile, my dad and I were living a simple life on a half-acre outside of Philadelphia, gardening, raising rabbits and chickens, and enjoying ourselves all while being self supporting, lazy, and completely unconcerned about the national economy.
"This Is Not Nasa Technology"
Given current economic conditions, when a reprint was suggested by Tin House Books, it sounded like a good idea. People who wanted to stop having their whole life jerked around by a fickle job market could learn how we became financially independent without having a fortune or running off to live in the woods. People who wanted to keep their jobs could take comfort in knowing that we lived a good life on very, very little money and so could they, if needed.
In the past 30+ years, I found that knowing how to live happily without much money gave me the confidence to try all sorts of ventures including becoming a NASA engineer, an award-winning environmental educator, a college professor, and a business owner. With the addition of an afterword to the new edition of Possum Living, I got to add the lessons I’ve learned from these experiences to the voice of my younger self.
But there was a price to pay for the reprinting. The publisher wanted me to start a blog. I would have to join the 21st century.
Mind you, I had a telephone and even Internet access, which I thought was quite progressive. My dial-up service may have been terribly slow but it was cheap and reliable. In the morning, I’d sit down in my recliner, prop my feet up, open my laptop, dial up the Internet, drink my coffee, watch the birds at the feeder, nibble on my breakfast, and read a couple of chapters of a book while very slowly cruising the Internet.
The fact that we still used dial-up drove many people crazy. Our neighbor was so frustrated, he told us to use his wireless service. In order to pull it in, my husband, Pete, had to set up his own antenna. He took a wire fruit basket, covered it in tinfoil, put it on a music stand, attached the wireless receiver with jumper cable clamps, and pointed the whole thing at the neighbor’s house. With a lot of fiddling, repositioning, and tweaking, he was able to get a dribble of wireless Internet. When I told him we had to get DSL, he was very happy. We switched services, got a new wireless thing-a-majig, and breathlessly awaited the rush of progress.
Now when I sit down in the morning, I connect instantly with the Internet. I start to read an article and the connection dies. I curse. I try again. It pops back up. It dies. I curse some more. I get up and reboot the thing-a-majig. I sit down and try again. The connection dies in the middle of an email exchange. I curse. I get up and jiggle some wires. I sit back down. It still doesn’t work. I use the telephone to call the person I was trying to email. Then I watch the birds at the feeder to calm down.
I suspect that there are several problems going on. I’ll bet you that the wiring is messed up, the receiver is screwy, and the provider unreliable. This may take a bit of time to fix. Meanwhile, I’ll do my best and try to get some good discussions started. But here’s the deal; no name calling, no blaming the Republicans, the Democrats, or this or that president, no cursing, and no put downs.
