It occurred to me

After I finished the last entry, it occurred to me that I was being or at least sounded like a snob. People have a right to choose whatever siding they want, and maybe I was acting as the taste police. Maybe I was also prescribing my standards and assuming that they are the only standards. I can see this, and my desire is not to limit people's choices. I thought maybe I could open people's eyes to the fact that they do not have to conform to the commercial, industrial, and practical. Painting is cheaper than siding, and, again, in my opinion, looks better. But, I recognize that if people feel all around better with siding then that choice is just as valuable as the one I myself made, that is, to remove my thirty or forty year old aluminum siding and to never side again.

Now, having confessed my own shortcomings and hopefully having been forgiven, let me proceed to put my foot in my mouth again. I'm afraid I took another walk this morning and came to some different conclusions. I think that I'm forcing a whole different outlook on midwestern culture. My city's character or the attitude and outlook of its people has been described as "work-a-day." I'd love to unpack that term; it's so intriguing. I'll try however not to spend a lot of time describing it. I'll simply say that after living here for eight years I think I have a pretty good idea what it means.

Here, work frames life. Work is the priority, and it dictates the quality of everything else. So, work-a-day culture is one of practicality. In this kind of culture, you could increase the school day to ten hours, get rid of all art and music and there would be no parental outrage. Work-a-day culture is a rule-following culture, an exacting culture, a machine culture. A high value is placed on systems, rules; people find life easier with these.

A couple of weeks ago, I took one of those silly quizzes that people seem to love on Facebook. (Generally, I find those stupid, and I feel similarly about Facebook though I am trying to stick with it because some people whom I think I admire say it's valuable.) So, I take this quiz that's supposed to tell you what your perfect state (in the union) is. Before I even start, I say, I know my ideal residence will be in the South. Okay, so I answer the ten questions and just as I expected I'm a Southerner alright. I'm a South Carolinian! Now, the quiz also has me living in a white house with a white picket fence. Such a desire as this may be in my subconscious. Anyone who read my last post could guess that I am not a fan of white houses, and picket fences are definitely over the top. Still, I loved living in North Carolina, and I hate to admit that our home there was a white wood-sided hybrid Cape Cod farm house with a long and deep front porch. It had a porch swing and a small picket fence which I removed a couple months after we moved in. This was our first house, and I wasn't in love with it; I settled for it because it was the first house my husband and I agreed upon. I'm pretty sure that I would not choose that style of house again, and though people say you shouldn't go backwards, I would return to North Carolina in a heartbeat. South Carolina may also be a good bet.

Now, back to my earlier thoughts. As I was walking this morning, I was thinking, I'm trying to force Southern onto Northern culture. People who live up here like this place just as it is. I mean, I don't hear anyone but myself complaining. If there's a block of white, vinyl and aluminum sided bungalows that are in no way distinguishable one from the next this is just as their owners want it. There is obviously no desire to have one's home be different, to have it reflect one's idiosyncracies, to be warm, inviting, and welcoming. No! A practical culture lives by the mantra--"no must, no fuss, no bother."

On one block in this same neighborhood, there is a shingled house that is midnight blue. It stands out like a sore thumb. It was for sale a few years back, and I lost track of whether it ever sold, but on a recent walk I noticed that there were no curtains at the windows. I concluded that its owners may have been selling due to a move out of the area. Probably, they hated to leave the house because really I suspect they put a lot of work into it, and they loved it. It's in mint condition, and the midnight blue contrasts with its bright red front door. Really, the house looks like something you'd see in a beach town. The nearest beach town to my city is about an hour away, and there is definitely a stark contrast between homes here and there. The owners of the midnight blue shingled house had the same problem I have; they thought that they could introduce color and character to a gray, brown, and white culture. They failed, and until they sell that house, they will have a constant reminder of that failure though I think they probably got a lot of joy out of the house while they lived in it and also from the process of transforming it into something divine!

But the question really is how one who is romantic can adjust to a practical culture. I wish I had an answer. I do not. The only thing that is obvious is that I cannot change a whole city not even one person at a time. I can create an oasis I suppose. My once-white aluminum clad home (gray shutters) is now deep green with chocolate trim. (I know that sounds too dark, depressingly so, but it's a modern styled home with not that much trim.) I can keep working on my garden, finding lots of joy in the beauty of it. My coneflower is almost as tall as I am, so my backyard is taking on a real cottage feel. I'm on vacation in my backyard.

But, in the South, I shopped for flowers with my friends, all of whom were fellow gardeners. We shared cuttings with each other, and at least once a week I sat in their yards or they in mine sipping tea, lemonade, or some other cool drink while we talked about kids, home, and love. I haven't had one experience like that here, and I absolutely have given up imagining that I one day will. No, the thing for me is not to adjust to work-a-day culture. The thing for me to do is move.