It is so dark in this apartment. You never realize just how isolated you are from any sunlight until you only have windows on one side of your dwelling place. Kind of like a grave. So...today, on this dark and dreary day, I am going to stay jacked up on caffeine, daydreams, and hard work.

So...for the caffeine. I have a wonderful cup of vanilla nut coffee. Yum. And I drank my coffee while watching Curious George with my little boy...and rocking my sweet little princess asleep in my arms. This is definitely the life.

AND... for the daydreams...Just to preface this - I know that I am odd. Not rich enough by any means to be eccentric...but just odd. But...I am not so sure that being odd is a bad thing. The times when I have tried to cover up my oddity and really care about what people thought about me - let's just say that those times are some of my most embarrasing moments. Full of awkwardness. So uncomfortable. I am just me. And - on most days - I like me. Sometimes...

So...now that that's over...I am daydreaming about the years to come with my children...And, though I know that it's a near impossibility where I now live...I would love to have at least an acre of land. With a cute, rustic playhouse that resembles a colonial shelter. And Bear and Princess would have their own little colonial outfits...knee breeches, a chemise, and a waistcoat for Bear. Petticoats, a chemise, a waistcoat, a modesty clothe, and a bonnet for Princess. And - with the omission of certain impracticle things, like an outhouse and a fire - my children could take the opportunity to experience history first hand. On their own terms. With no pressure. Just a game. I would love for them to pick a crop - say corn - and plant a few rows. (I would help, of course.) But...I would also find some service or good to trade for the fruit of their labors. This would give them some idea of the colonial economy. (Without the taxes - of course.) And it would teach them how to barter. A very useful tool even in today's society. It would teach them the meaning of hard work. And it would make the people in the history books - and their family tree - seem a little more real. They would realize, in a very oblique way, the brevity of human life. And that our passing to make way for posterity is just a natural transition. God has a bigger plan for us. This life is just a part of that. It's not even a fraction of the whole picture - it's just the small little part that we can somewhat understand. The people who lived their earthly lives in 1770 had the same dreams, aspirations, and emotions that all of us experience today. They did really live. And they were afraid of death and the unknown - just read some of their diaries. They considered themselves modern just as we now consider ourselves modern. And someday - like it or not - we will, too, be just another spot on our great-grandchildren's family tree. I think that the realization of this shoots humanism to pieces. It makes the necessity of a childlike faith in the providence of God absolutely necessary for survival.

All right - now for the hard work part of my day. Scrub, scrub, scrub....