A while back, our friends Heather and Audrey accompanied us to The Little House on the Prairie, Laura Ingalls Wilder's home site near Independence, KS, for a day of exploring and picnic-ing. I had not been since I was a little girl, though I've lived within a couple dozen miles of there most of my life. As a child, I was smitten with Ms. Wilder's books, and used to roam the pastures and creek beds of my grandparents ranch, pretending I was a pioneer girl, straying too far from the homestead. I loved anything old timey. I read all the pioneer diaries the library contained, and wanted more. I dreamed of one day living in a log cabin full of twig furniture. I desperately wanted a wardrobe of long period dresses to wear. I wanted to play old-timey instruments and sing folk ballads. Really, not much has changed. I'm still that girl. As much as I love the sleek lines of an Eames chair, and the futuristic, light-filled airiness of a Joseph Eichler home, the rustic simplicity of a bent Willow rocker just speaks to something deep inside me. I'm not inclined to believe in anything as magical as past lives, but if such a thing exists, then I must have once lived in a little cabin, tucked away deep in a mountain holler.
My little one doesn't yet have the attention span required for the Little House series, but soon enough, she will. I'm looking forward to sharing with her the books that were such a large part of my own childhood. For our Little House excursion, I decided to put her in a dress I had worn when I was her age, sewn for me by my mother. Here's my little Sunbonnet Sue in the dress her Nana lovingly stitched, nearly thirty years ago.
She and Audrey had a wonderful time exploring the site together.
It's great to have friends who share our love of the old-fashioned. I think a lot more adventures are in store for these pioneer girls.