Pa is driving me nuts! Obviously, I would not have been out there
on the frontier. I can see the conversation between my husband and
Him: "I honey, I’m bored. I am going to drag you and our young
daughters away from our extended family to live across the country in
the middle of nowhere and you can sleep on the ground while I build you
a log cabin."
Me: "What will we eat?"
Him: "Well, I’ll go off hunting all day while you tend to the chores
and take care of the children. I’ll bring home dead animals for you to
clean and cook."
Me: Baffled silence.
The conversation continues. Too funny. And I’m so with you, Jenn. As a child, I always thought Ma was a bit cold. The Ma of the books, that is, as compared to the smiling-eyed Ma on TV. In the books, it seemed like no matter what Pa did, no matter how narrow the escape or how great the accomplishment, Ma’s response was always just "Oh, Charles." My heart was with Pa of the grand gesture, the wanderlust, the thirst for adventure. I scoffed along with Laura at the quiet, settled types who were unaccountably reluctant to hit the trail again.
And then I had kids. The end of Little House on the Prairie gives me such a pang, now. Caroline had just gotten her garden going. It tore me up to leave behind my berries and butterflies in Virginia. Imagine if that garden was one of your primary food sources and you’d worked your tail off to get your carefully guarded seeds into the ground! And now you find out the house is three miles on the wrong side of the line, three miles. Jenn’s take on that scene is dead on.
Caroline Quiner Ingalls, I give you much more props now that I’m a mama too.
Poetry Friday: Rigs o’ Rye
Why did that book go out of print?
Martha and Charlotte go to Indonesia
Laura Ingalls Wilder Biographer Interview