It was 1967.

We were sitting around in my parents house one day and I was pontificating about when our children were old enough to leave home, I wanted to move from the Boston area to VT. I had this whole plan that was to occur in about 18 years. My mother said "If you really want to live in VT, you'd better go now because if you wait, you will have put down roots and you'll never leave."

I'm sure that my wife, who wanted to live on Brattle St. in Cambridge, must have gasped in horror, but I didn't hear it.

Charlotte's best friend Kitty and her husband had just moved to Montpelier. We had visited once or twice, and if we were indeed going to go, it seemed that was the place.

We moved to Vermont in 1968, in time for our youngest son to celebrate his first birthday in his new state. Charlotte expected covered wagons and an outhouse, with kerosene lamps as the only light source since electricity certainly couldn't have been extended to the far north wilds yet. This was only passing fancy though, and we arrived in a rented truck with everything we owned and no place to live. After 2 weeks living out of the truck (the U-Haul folks were getting just a little nervous by then) and with our friends, we found an apartment and our life in the frozen north began in earnest.

I worked as a painter for my landlord, and in a local printing shop, and I then went to work for an insurance company home office where I remained for 32 years.

In the early days, there was no money. I was making just over $4,000 a year and Charlotte stayed home with the kids. I can remember sending unsigned checks to the electric company to try and get a few extra days before the next paycheck.

The fact that there was no money is really the point of all this. We did move into a rented house in about a year, and wound up buying it about 3-4 years later. Our mortgage payment was $80.56. We had trouble with that!

The things we did have were family, friends and fun. Entertainment was going to Kitty's for cooked to death "lamb briquettes" and helping to move the pigs around or fix a fence. We went there, they came to us--. No one we knew had any money, we all just pooled whatever resources we did have and laughed a lot.

In those days, when we went to Maine to visit my parents for a week everything the 4 of us needed for survival fit into an old Volkswagen bug. (I got to the point that I could change out an old burned up VW engine for a slightly newer hopefully working one in less than 2 hours. There were always 1 or 2 replacement engines awaiting their turn in the garage.) There were no kid electronics or trunks of toys and we just enjoyed whatever there was wherever we were.

My kids grew up to be wonderful people, even though they were so deprived of stuff. They spent hours outside doing God knows what and still have great memories of their childhood.

It must be obvious what all this is leading up to by now. Is it really better to have the vast quantities of modern technology and all the stuff that goes along with it? Don't get me wrong - here I am blogging on a computer and enjoying doing it. The technology is great, but not to the exclusion of simpler things. I am convinced that one of the reasons my kids turned out so well is because we had to make due for so long. We depended on each other, friends and family, for sustenance to nourish mind and body.

Although my grandchildren have more things and opportunities than their father and uncle ever dreamed of, they are being raised with much the same view of what's important. I spent 4 wonderful days with my grandson in NH this Summer. We were supposed to be there in warm weather, fishing, swimming, maybe a little sailing. Instead, it was cool and rainy the entire time. So, we played cribbage, the trumpet (him) and guitar (me), and read books in front of the fire the whole time. No schedule, no pressing need to do something. It was great and a time I will remember always.

That's what's important.