PIONEER GIRL

MARION PELLICANO AMBROSE

I've come to the conclusion that it’s a very good thing that I wasn’t born in the pioneer days!  When I was younger, I used to think that I would love the challenge and romance of those times. Today I learned, without a doubt, I never would have made it!



This morning the electric company turned off the electricity in our neighborhood for a few hours. No problem, or so I thought! I slept in little later (I forgot my alarm wouldn’t work) and got up to have my MUST HAVE morning cup of Earl Gray. I forgot: electric stove = no tea. OK, diet coke it is! Time to check in on face book and hit the Delayed Reaction Lounge! What? No connection? But I have wireless! Reset what? No internet for a while. OK. I’ll watch TV, no! Do some sewing, no! Make cookies, no, no no! I tried to switch on fans, turn on lights, play some music. I just couldn’t get used to not having electricity for even a few short hours! Pathetic!

I started to think of how much I depend on modern conveniences. I began to realize that that romantic pioneer life was not romantic at all! It was hard work and probably a whole lot of boredom. I began to feel awfully lucky to have been born in this age of convenience and ease!



When I was a child, our family spent the summer in our cabin in Upstate New York. That little place called Pine Bush was a wonderland to me. We had no running water and had to go out to the pump and fill kettles for bath water, meals, drinking and washing dishes. We had no telephone, no close neighbors and the nearest store was a little mom and pop place about a mile and a half away. Oh, and the only way to the highway and this little store was a rough, gravel trail (can’t even call it a road) with steep hills and sharp turns. Did I mention my Dad went home to work during the week so we didn’t have a car?  While it was a tomboy’s dream, my sister and my mother were miserable! I finally understand why. While I was swimming, frog hunting, exploring the woods and collecting spiders, they were sitting on the porch wishing they were back in Brooklyn. My mom worked her fingers to the bone washing clothes by hand, cooking on a little propane stove and praying nothing happened because she’d have to walk that rugged mile to get to a telephone to call for help. All those years, she hid her worry and misery! That was a mother’s act of love!



Today, I’m no longer a tomboy and while I still love nature, I appreciate all the modern conveniences I’m fortunate enough to enjoy. I’ll always have fond memories of Pine Bush and my rustic childhood adventures, but I’m grateful to be a 21st century girl! Thank you mom, for loving me enough to become a pioneer each summer and giving me a childhood filled with adventure! Oh, and I’m sorry about all the spiders you kept finding in my pockets!