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Southern France
Lynn Deasy is a freelance writer, author, foodie, and garden tinkerer. She lives in a 600 year old house in southern France with her husband, Christophe. Currently, she is looking for a literary agent for her memoir CA VA? STORIES FROM RURAL LIFE IN SOUTHERN FRANCE which examines the oddities of French provincial living from an outsider’s point of view through a series of adventures that provide more than a fair share of frustration, education, admiration, and blisters…. yes, lots and lots of blisters. Lynn blogs every Monday, Wednesday, and sometimes Friday.

Friday, February 10, 2012

A Whole New Measure


            I was out yesterday bringing in wood for the heater.  Out woodpile is on the other side of the garden, so I bring it to the house in a wheel barrel; it is just easier and faster than loading up my arms or a carrying it in a bag.  I thought, “Two full wheel barrels should be enough”, and it was.  But that got me thinking on how my standards of measure have changed.
            Back in elementary school, I, like my cohorts, was taught the metric system because as we were told, “it’s going to take over the world.”   Our 12 inch rulers were going to be a thing of the past and gallon jugs of milk were going to shrink down to liters.  Well, that didn’t happen.  The only thing left over from that metric wave is now Coca-Cola comes in 2 liter plastic bottles instead of 8, 12 ounce glass bottles.  I think we kind of missed the point on that one.
            But now, I live in the metric system.  My milk comes in liters, my flour by the kilo, and my butter is dished out in grams.  For the life of me, I cannot eyeball 200 grams of flour like I can with a cup a sugar, but that’s nothing a good kitchen scale cannot fix; however, this is not the new measure that has given me pause.  It’s the measures we use every day: the wheel barrel, the bucket, the crate, and the handful.  These are measures that seem to go hand in hand with living in the country.  I don’t weigh how many tomatoes I picked from the garden, I gathered a bucket full; I don’t measure how much wood I bring in for the day, I bring in a wheel barrel; I don’t count how many potatoes I have, I have a crate full.  These are rudimentary measures, but they’re practical, and they get the job done.
            I’m sure many would laugh at this and think I’ve slid down an evolutionary slope that I could never climb back up, but I disagree.  Measurements are a tool.  They were established to make our life easier and to fulfill our needs.  It’s no longer the king’s foot that decides for us, but our everyday needs that dictate what we do, and these simple standards of measure, like a bowl full of sugar, reflects that. 

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