Americans love working from home – or at least, a good deal of those usd to corporate offices do. But why do we fantasize about working in our pajamas in a foreign yard when we could be *really* working from home.

Imagine “going to work” each morning just by stepping outside your door. Imagine your scope of “working from home” including the sun and grass and dirt and trees of the land around you.

Imagine bringing your dog or your horse (or both) to work each day. Imagine spending the day working alongside your kids. Imagine coming home each day to dinner and later supper served by your wife in your own house. d

This was the agrarian reality of early America, and of just about every yeoman farmer around the world.

It’s a better kind of “working from home” – while we idealize the supposed freedom and flexibility of computer work done from inside our houses, we can’t beat what a poor farmer had for little.

Sure, there was hardship and sickness and the brutal reality of trying to survive. But there’s also a situation of the inherent conflict of work, but it’s right inside similar truth of inherent togetherness.