A number of people have wondered what has possessed us to want to move off to our own little corner of nowhere and grow stuff. I had an epiphany on the subject today while chatting with a like-minded family member (who, incidentally, introduced me to this very interesting-looking website): When I wake up in the morning, I'm dependent on the guy who made my sheets. And the one that built my windows, my roof, and my shower. I'm dependent on the guy who makes razors (on the relatively rare occasion I choose to use one), the folks that produce soap, and the ones that power my refrigerator.
I don't like that
It's not that I want to have to do all those things for myself. I'm not terribly interested in sleeping regularly on homespun sheets, keeping my milk in an ice house (and spending the winter cutting ice from ponds to stock it), or replacing thatch. But I want to know that I can do it. Does that make it sound less crazy?