I had what I thought was a brilliant idea this afternoon. It has been a really long week, and I haven’t been sleeping well, so by the time my work day was winding down I was at that bleary-eyed, punchy, flight-of-ideas stage. There was something I read on Twitter, can’t remember what, that got me started thinking about communes. You know: sharing the land, sharing the workload, sharing the responsibility, yada yada yada.
I started thinking that this would work out pretty well for me since I had a long list of things to do and REALLY wanted to go home and take a nap with the dog. After all, I’d been up since 3:15, working to pay the bills, so if I went home to a commune wouldn’t there be someone there who had spent the day cleaning? Doing laundry? Going to the grocery? Paying bills with the money I was making? Perhaps even someone would be starting supper. I could probably go home and lie down with a couple of commune toddlers and read to them until we all fell asleep for a nice afternoon nap. Sounds pretty good, huh?
So on the drive home (mostly to keep myself awake) I thought about who might live in my commune and how things would work. I came up with a pretty sizable list of people and their families I thought I could live with. Of course we’d need plenty of room (Dad, can I have a big chunk of the farm for a commune?) and high-speed Internet. And my iPhone has to work ALL THE TIME. The fact that I’m mentioning my iPhone before plumbing scares even me. So, yes, of course we need all the basic creature comforts: electricity, running water, high thread-count sheets.
Naturally I would want to feel like I was making a significant contribution to the community as a whole, but I’m not hauling my butt off to work every day while everyone else is snoozing, so I figure I’ll work two days a week. And since I’m a morning person I’ll gather eggs and milk the cow every morning. That probably only sounds appealing to me since I’ve never gathered eggs or milked a cow before. Yes, I’m a country girl, but it’s a “tobacco and beef cattle” farm, not a “chickens and dairy cattle” farm. I’ll also get up with any kids that wake up early in the morning. I think the other commune members will consider this a VERY valuable contribution. I’d also be willing to do some of the cooking, but since my aunt Beverly is already living smack dab in the middle of the proposed commune site and cooks better than Paula Deen I’ll just be her “commune sous chef”.
What do you guys think? Who wants to be part of this and what will you do in the commune? My dad doesn’t read my blog, so we’ll all just show up and surprise him. He likes surprises . . . I think.