Playing house or um, camping

Recently, my husband and I took a walk in a local park which offers camping. 

The views were breathtaking and the walking trails exhilarating; but the cabins were most intriguing.  I think every little girl or grown-up little girl will find something magical in these teeny “homes.”

As we peeked inside one of the structures, my husband probably thought something along the lines of: “Electricity for laptop. Bring hot dogs.”

This is what I thought…

“Wouldn’t a vase of daisies on the dining room table be lovely? Oh, let’s sew window curtains in a fabric of pink and green and, of course, stitch bed quilts to match! We will sit in rocking chairs on the front porch and that’s where we will knit and sing.”

“We will roll out pie crust and then bake our masterpiece over coals outside. After chasing kitty from the windowsill, we will place our pie there instead. Fresh air will dance with delicious aroma, filling the room with a homey scent.”

“Our kitty will be calico and her name shall be Pinky. She will be adorned with a hot pink collar studded with diamonds--and she will sleep with us.”

“If any extra boys want to play, they can be the dogs. If they don’t like being dogs, then they can just go home.”

The daydream ended as we headed back to the car.  Real-life kitchens, laundry and pets aren’t nearly as much fun to contemplate as the possibilities found in these playhouses.

Yes, these playhouses happen to be located in the woods and, no, they do not have bathrooms or running water; so using them is, technically, camping.

But, isn’t it way more fun to pretend?

Man's work is from sun to sun

Armloads of dishes head into and out of the dishwasher a few times a day. Mountains of laundry pile into the washing machine--ugh--then the dryer.

To put our daily toils into perspective, check out this archived copy of Mrs. Owens’ Cook Book and Useful Household Hints.

Mrs. Owens, who originally copyrighted the book in 1884, uses personal voice and humor. Her household manual reads like a personal letter.

One of the book’s purposes is to eliminate unnecessary work and make the homemaker more efficient. 

“It is worse than folly to devote ten hours to a task which may be accomplished in five. These aids will make that difference,” she says.

She speaks of skimping on the ironing stating that no one will ever know if you only ironed the fronts of your husband’s nightshirts. 

The section on road-making was intended, along with the proper way to butcher meat, as reference for the farmer in the family. Believe me, this book is thorough.

Its advice for treatment of whooping cough prompted me to research the disease’s history. A vaccine for whooping cough had not been developed at the time of writing. 

Housekeeping was not so much about aesthetics or vanity, but a pursuit largely dedicated to disease prevention and survival.

Just when I figured there was no time for fun, I discovered a page regarding children’s parties. Though I don’t know many children who would cheer about panned oysters, the rest of the menu sounded appealing.

Listening to Mrs. Owens through her writing reveals wasted hours in modern day. I mean, our household does not rely on me to prepare fire kindlers, make ink or clean kerosene lamps.

But I never slack when ironing my husband's nightshirts! 

"People train runs outta Stubbville"

Does this motel look familiar?

This is where Neal Page (Steve Martin) and Del Griffith (John Candy) met up with Gus' son, Owen (Dylan Baker), in the movie Planes, Trains and Automobiles. 

The Braidwood Inn!

On our way to Chicago a couple months ago, we drove through Braidwood, Illinois. I was bouncing on my seat as we passed this iconic building. 

It's now called the Sun Motel but it will always be Edelen's Braidwood Inn to me.

*Sigh*