Back when I was in college I had a few friends who would kid me about being a “pioneer woman,” and while I secretly wished it were true at the time, I have come to learn I don’t hold a candle to a REAL pioneer woman. I’ll start proving my point by admitting the candle I would hold would be store bought, not hand dipped in rendered pig fat I harvested off the pig in the backyard-like a REAL pioneer woman would do.
We are so spoiled today with our instant hot water, fire-less ovens, and wax free lighting. That is until nature runs its course and decides to humble you back to the pioneer times. Bye, bye electricity! Hello, ICE!
Confession, while I have been humbled and have received a teeny-tiny taste of pioneer days I am still spoiled. So, so thankful for the invention of the generator. End of confession.
This ice has taught me a very valuable lesson: I would have survived. At least for one day…
Here’s what my day would have looked like had I been a true pioneer (minus a lot of things true pioneers had to do). What really happened will be italicized:
Keep the fire fed so the babies don’t freeze (no small task). Seriously, keep the fire going so we don’t freeze.
Heat water on the fire to pour on the buggy door (I received word Mr. Pioneer Man got his horse stuck checking cattle and needed a ride back home to gather reinforcements). Turn on faucet and fill a cup with hot water because the pickup door is iced shut. Greg really got stuck choring. Us to the rescue!
Chip ice off the buggy/horse. Probably the lamest part of winter. Chip/melt ice to get in the vehicle, and thank the Lord for defrosters in vehicles. Ice melted in a jiffy, once it was turned on.
Feed the fire. Put some lunch on the fire. Keep the fire going. Start up the oven (generators are seriously a God-send), put lunch in with automatic shutoff.
Bundle up the children and load them in the buggy. Watch your step! Lots of ice on the ground. Kids’ coated and shoed. Utilize every stability muscle carrying them to the pick-up. I hate ice.
Run the horse and buggy 5 miles to Mr. Pioneer Man, and pray there’s not any dreaded black ice. Carefully drive out to get Greg. I hate ice.
Pick up Mr. Pioneer Man, his father, and his brother (their horses were also stuck trying to pull each other out). Laugh when you see three men getting out of three stuck pick-ups as you pull up. Try not to slide off into the ditch.
Return home and hope lunch is still edible. Let Greg drive home. Have I mentioned that I hate ice? Lunch was a bit over done (the oven works so well), but still warm and edible.
Keep the fire fed. Tend to the children. Clean the outhouse(s). Warm water to wash the dishes. You get the point…
Major kudos to those real pioneer women who lived this day and many more difficult ones than this. And I’m sure they all did it without any complaints, because that’s how awesome pioneer women were. The moral of the lesson ice has taught me: be less modern, and more pioneering. ❤