Welcome back to another week of me feeling old. Wait. That didn’t come out right. Welcome to another week of being old. No. Thinking about being old? Thinking about old things. Yeah. That’s it. Welcome back to another week of musing about old things. I’ve been mulling this one around a bit, and trying to figure out what to pinpoint my thoughts on, but it doesn’t seem to be working. So, I’m just gonna jump right in and see where this post ends up, okay?
Okay, back to being old. Uh, I mean thinking about old things. I’ve been diving in to some “time period” books as of late. Now, I am no history buff, so I don’t devour stories of pioneer women locked into hardships and whirlwind romances, but I can appreciate the struggles of these ladies and trying to balance homemaking and being present in civil war times and ‘doing their part’ for the country. Or trying to live big dreams in a world where women are underappreciated and pegged into certain, shall we say, domestic rolls. Somehow, I think American history and the 1800’s seem to be a book genre all it’s own — and kudos to the authors who research such topics. Again, I’m no history buff, but it seems there are a lot of you out there who read these things.
I’m not so sure Canadian times were much different from their American counterparts, especially when it came to homemaking: we have apple pies and little houses on prairies here, too! And it is not just in my recent literature choices. In fact, I’ve been seeing lots of people “returning to their roots” as of late. Perhaps the pandemic of 2020 has allowed us the time to bake from scratch, sew and craft, and appreciate the “good old days” of family gatherings, game playing and gardening. Homesteading has become mainstream — especially for millenials. So what draws us to these old fashioned treasures? Do they hold a mystery of some sort?
A few weeks back, we took an impromptu, post Covid holiday to the Kitchener-Waterloo area in southern Ontario. With our new puppy. That, in itself, is an adventure, but I’ll try and stick to the topic. For those who are unfamiliar, this area is known for its large population of mennonite groups and such delights as the St. Jacob’s farmer’s market. A rich heritage and belief system of “old ways” and “traditions” (not to mention a plethora of mouth watering baked goods and fresh produce!) We’ve been numerous times and have enjoyed the bounty of harvest at several times of the year. This time, we ventured out of our traditional visitor spots and explored some ‘off the beaten path’ trails and smaller towns. We ate lunch at Bonnie Lou’s Cafe (on the patio with the pup) and the Mitton crew heartily recommend it! Oh, the pie….
We also stumbled upon “The West Montrose Covered Bridge” the only remaining covered bridge in Ontario, affectionately known as “the kissing bridge” because the wood covering allows for *ahem* some shadowed privacy. I suppose some traditions never die. Which brings me back to things of “old”. Why do we hold dear to traditions? Are they better ways? Does the future hold promise? Should we change for the sake of change? I don’t know. The jury is out for me on this muse. Some days I feel stuck in the middle of old school pad and paper vs. cell phone texts. Does church need to “get with the times” or be examples of time honoured traditional practice? Is the Bible “old fashioned”? Can Christians be relevant to this fast paced generation of instant gratification? Where does the balance lie?
Does it even come up in conversation anymore? What I do know is that God’s word is timeless. It has passed the test of times past and will continue to inspire and convict well into the future . It’s supernatural. It continues to reach even the youngest generation. Still, we need mentors and wise elders to council and enrich. And vibrant new voices to challenge and question. Perhaps our trip to the KW area was a good example for us: Modern highways and hotels and rich,homemade pies baked in tradition, all with a little love thrown in under the shadow of a covered bridge — for balance between the two worlds.