Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Monday, January 29, 2007
Everything that Freezes Must Converge
This was taken during this January's ice storm. It was fun. We were housebound for days. Maybe we didn't need to be, but we were too chicken to even try to drive. In Austin, even rain can throw people for a loop.
When we ran out of regular food, we had to improvise, and after searching our pantry, came up with a damn fine Mexican lasagna, the recipe for which I will post later at my food blog, Miss Menu. Makes me kind of wish for more snow days in life.
Friday, January 26, 2007
He's gone mad!
Texas, the cookie
Here is a quick post along with a picture of some of what we did over our Christmas vacation.
They were pretty yummy. I got the recipe from Elise at Simply Recipes. This was my very first batch of sugar cookies ever, and so I had no idea how hard it would be to roll them out. But it was. I have never cursed something inanimate with such feeling. Well, maybe I have, but not in a while.
Anyway, my husband decorate these, and I thought they were cute. Yes, we're from Texas, which means nothing says Christmas like edible political subdivisions.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
When You Can Be Yourself
Jason and I have been reflecting on how few people you can truly let go in front of--the people who know you and aren't judging you, the people you love and would do anything for, the people who you extend your generosity to because you are moved to do it, and not because you are trying to impress anyone.
With Meredith, there is no pretense, no tension, just the happy harmony of two people who truly like each other. I've been to parties recently where it felt like everyone was trying to one-up everyone else--who's the funniest, the smartest, the most successful--and it's just so exhausting...and so pointless.
So here's to the Merediths of the world, and here's hoping that everyone is lucky enough to count a friend like her among their life's blessings.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
What We Do All Day and Why
Thursday, September 28, 2006
This episode had me fantasizing and no doubt romanticizing the role of housewife. I imagined myself making really excellent meals for my husband--shopping for healthy, tasty ingredients and having a real menu--with side dishes or even a nice little dessert thought out. I love to cook, so it's easy to think of this as the fun part. But even keeping the laundry clean and off the floors, the house and garden clean and even beautiful--these domestic responsibilities sometimes appeal to me on days like the one I had today--because I imagine that all that work would go toward something I cared about, something my husband cared about--good food, a comfortable home--and not toward bosses and an organization that doesn't think enough of me to come to me when something needs to be revised or reworked. Why give my energies to people who really don't care for me in the same way my husband cares for me?
I suppose my fantasy hinges on the ability of people not to become complacent, not to take energies spent and comforts provided for granted. Is that possible? Or is it inevitably that our human nature will begin to get used to such a way of life as to believe it has always been there and always should? My guess is that it probably is so. Which renders the above romantic ideas slightly tarnished.
Still, I'd love to sit down with housewives from every era and interview them, get their take on how they feel about the domestic arts. Did they feel appreciated? Did they get bored? For those that left their jobs, did they regret their decision? What advice would they give knowing what they know now? I know it's hopelessly old-fashioned, but doing work for someone you love sounds so much better to me than doing work for people you tolerate.
Of course, I also enjoy the idea of being left alone with my thoughts--I am, after all a writer, who loves reflection and spending time in her head, and while I enjoy socializing with my friends, I abhor participating in small talk with people I am thrown, arbitrarily, in an office with. (The exception, which I don't know how housewives deal with the absence of, are the people who I meet at work and truly enjoy talking to--the people who start as co-workers and become friends.) And I suppose the small talk is excellent research for characters, which is often what I'm thinking about when I nod my head in sympathy or agreement.
Being a romanticized, appreciated housewife appeals to me because I believe I'd have time to myself--time, when the laundry was getting done to read a bit, or write--without the worry of intrusion from the bundle of neuroses in the cube next door.
But the question remains--is there any truth in this daydream, or is desperation what you find upon waking up?
I suppose one other path remains--finding the job in which you are appreciated. A job where your contributions are noted, where your energies go toward something worthwhile, where you are rarely if ever taken for granted. I wonder...is this a fantasy too? Or do such jobs exist?
And these thoughts are all taking place in the absence of children. I'm not even considering the layers of nuance and complexity that a child adds to the internal struggle. Women are such amazing, thoughtful, energetic human beings--I'm so very glad to be a woman, but I do think these traits add to our burden. We are capable of so much, and so we try to do it all. But is doing it all healthy? And if we must cut back to retain our sanity, how do we choose?
And, perhaps more importantly, how can society better help us carry our valuable load?