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On Moving, Part 2
June 8, 2017 /Growing up in Washington State, I was convinced my mother and stepfather were ascetic monks disguised as law-abiding citizens. Everything about our house in the woods—its dirt driveway and wood-fired stove, the rickety doors that were forever creaking and driving us all mad—suggested an extension of pioneer society, a devotion to hard work and self-denial accompanied by a general mistrust of modern comforts. My family didn’t seriously invest in electric heating until after I left for college (during winter, I was forever walking around like the little brother in A Christmas Story, wearing roughly 20 sweaters and weeping about not being able to put my arms down), and our shower usually had only 30 seconds of hot water per day. My mother was forever banging on the bathroom door, ordering us to get out of the shower and stop wasting precious natural resources. This lifestyle became especially troublesome once I entered high school. Living in a largely affluent small town, most of my friends enjoyed accordingly cushy lifestyles: palatial homes, unlimited heat, fancy refrigerators that dispensed pompous quantities of ice and filtered water. Such modern conveniences seemed impossibly luxurious to my untutored experience, more akin to the advanced technologies of science…Read more
