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busses
September 02nd, 2019
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I never spent much time on busses growing up. We were a car family
in the suburbs. I either rode my bike places or we drove a car.
Nothing was accessible by foot, and busses didnt run close by.

Upon moving to Reykjavík we decided to go without a car for the
first year to save money and get to know the area more intimately.
It forces me to walk place to place, which is exercise I need, and
it slows the pace of life.

Today I wanted to buy new 3D filament. I've only found one store
that sells it so far, and it took me almost two hours to get there
and make the purchase with all the transfers. A single errand is
a day's outing. 

Even now as I'm on the bus home I feel a strange reaction from
completing a simple task. It reminds me of the pleasures of the
Slow Internet.

My wife went grocery shopping this morning. She walked the 2 km
into town (down a big hill and up another) then shopped and rode
the bus home. She accomplished something more significant than it
would have been by car.

This is all of mind due to the convergence of solderpunk's
ROOPHLOCH and kensanata's thread on creating, or rather the notion
of being productive. It seems to me that the method contributes so
much to the worth that I'm not sure end products are of much use in
determining quality of time spent.

Another case in point, sewing. I routinely did the sewing in our
last home by machine. It gave satisfaction for creation, but since
moving all my needle work has been by hand. It took me an hour to
make finger puppets for my son, but the satisfaction scaled more
rapidly than the increased effort. Some of that may be novelty, but
the same could be said for the machine.

Working manually by choice gives strange fruit.