Domestic Life

Cooking. Cleaning. Laundry. The staples of domestic life. Whether you're single or attached, childless or parent to one or many, these things never go away, do they? Someone has to be in charge of keeping the home fires burning (once a very literal task requiring a body-usually female-to go from room to room and rekindle the flames in the fireplace or woodstove). I've been "keeping house" for almost 32 years now - keeping the same house, actually, so we've both grown a bit frayed around the edges together. I'm not the world's greatest housekeeper - certainly nothing like my mother in law, who kept this house before me. She worked full time outside the home, yet devoted every spare remaining minute to cleaning. Washing windows, buffing the basment floor every Saturday, removing the light fixtures weekly. She was the type of woman who would make up my father in law's side of the bed if he got up in the night to go to the bathroom (and I'm almost not joking about that).

My mother was quite the homemaker too -it was her full time job from day one, and she took it seriously. When I was a toddler, my grandparents lived with us, and most of my memories are of my grandfather and I playing together while my mother and grandmother cooked, cleaned, and decorated.

Well, that sure isn't me. When I was younger, and the whole housekeeping thing was new, I was a lot fussier. I wasn't working outside my home at the time, so I had plenty of time and energy to invest in domestic life. But raising a child quite effectively cured my penchant for neatness, and I decided early on that it was better to play with my son than worry about whether the sink sparkled.

Nowdays, domestic life just plain makes me tired. It's so endlessly dreary - the same floors to sweep, the same furniture to dust, the same bric a brac to shuffle around from season to season. And the grocery shopping-my god, don't even get me started on how much I hate the grocery shopping.

I have completely lost my heart for all of it.

One day not long ago, I was leaving my mother's house after one of our marathon trips to the market. It was a typical cold, wet, Michigan winter day. My sinuses were clogged, there were huge dark circles under my eyes, and I'm sure I resembled death warmed over.

My mother looked at me and I could see her eyes fill with tears.

"You know, I didn't want this for you," she said softly.

And it struck me that of course she had other plans for me, a bright child who came of age in an era when women were not only encouraged but expected to have more than a domestic life. Perhaps she envisoned me a doctor or lawyer, with a large home and servants to do all the work for me. Or maybe she supposed I would live a single life, and be responsible for no one but myself.

For the first time, I wondered what her dreams for me might have been, for if she had them, she never shared them with me when I needed to hear them. And while she may have hoped my life would be different from hers, she wasn't able to help me see the potential, or allow me the freedom necessary to find it on my own.

And so I have lived a largely domestic life.

But though domesticity may have occupied a fair portion of my time, it has never been the essence of my existence, as it was for women of previous generations. For as long as I can remember, books, writing, music - those have been the things that fed my soul, irrespective of dust on the table tops or dishes in the sink.

How thankful I am, for that has been my oasis in the desert of domestic life.

Write on Wednesday-I Am Writer...Hear Me Roar!

My friend Michele at Writing the Cyber Highway honored me with this award, and I'm so pleased and grateful!

Of course, since Michele is all about encouraging aspiring writers, the award comes with an assignement. I'm supposed to share three writing tips that will make your writing powerful.

1) Keep a journal or a notebook of some kind and write in it every day. Writing "morning pages" each day are the way I jump start my writing. Sitting down every morning and writing whatever comes into my head is something like the warms up we do in choir, or the stretches a runner does before a marathon. Some days it's nothing but drivel, but other days, some really good ideas come out on the page.

2) Read fiction, poetry, biography, essay's. Find authors who inspire you, and study their descriptive techniques and the way they construct sentences, and create dialogue.

3) Write what you know, write what comes from your heart, from your experiences and feelings. That's the only way your writing will be meaningful to the people who read it.

So, how about you? What do you think it takes to make your writing roar?

Sunday Scribblings-Date

Whole worlds of them are stuck in my mind, and pop up at the oddest moments. Dates of birthdays - November 5, August 21, October 21, my junior high school boyfriends. Dates of events - February 2, March 21, December 19, musical performances that were meaningful. Of course, all the truly meaningfull dates are etched in memory. Dates of joy -May 8, February 23, my wedding, my son's birth. Dates of loss-May 15, February 9, September 11, grandmother, grandfather, beloved dog. Another anniversary of loss is approaching - January 31, the death by suicide of a special young man, a former student, who was likely the most intelligent young person I've even known. Book smart, yes, but also a young person whose mind worked differently, with incredible lightening speed. Looking into his eyes while carrying on a conversation was like glimpsing the inner workings of a supercomputer, for you could almost see the sparks flying, brain synapses in rapid fire.

It's been two years this month, and when the date of his birth (September 1 - that's another one I remember) and the date of his death approach, I recall the waste inherent in this loss. But I also recall the memory of his laughter, his wit, his outgoing eagerness to make friends with everyone (which he did, with unerring grace). It troubles me that a man like this cannot live in our world, for it is men like this whom the world so desperately needs.

In a recent conversation with his mother, who has been working to attach his name to a memorial archive at The University of Michigan, where he was editor of the Michigan Daily, she said with what sounded like desperation, "I just want people to remember him."

Of course she does. She wants people to remember that his presence on this earth, although far too brief, was not in vain, that his life counted for something more than just another statistic.

And so dates on the calendar become small blessings, reminders of people who should not be forgotten. January 31 -a date I remember. Postscript: It's late Sunday night, and I just had a phone call from the brother of the young man I wrote about in this post. He's asked me to set aside another important date- October 3, his wedding. And he's asked me to play piano for the occasion. Can you guess that I'm smiling?

for more about dates, go here

Is It Friday Already?

My, how time has flown this week, my first week home and back to real life in all its general glory. I feel extremely lucky that (1) the weather since we returned has been unseasonably mild, most likely thanks to the effects of global warming that will eventually result in the early demise of our planet, but which for now I'm rather enjoying; (2) nothing devastating happened to anyone or anything I left behind, proving once again that although I might think I'm indispensible, I'm really not; and (3) life is actually rather quiet at the moment, and I can gently ease myself back into all my various roles and resposibilities.

So I managed to cross a number of things off my to-do list this week -and all you other list makers out there certainly know what a relief that is. I've yet to do a complete shop - grocery and sundry shopping, that is, but I suspect I'll complete that chore over the weekend.

And speaking of the weekend - I have NO plans. Zip. Nada. If I were in my twenties (or even my thirties) that would be a tragedy of the utmost magnitude. But since I'm practically in my dotage, it's absolutely marvelous.

I'll probably delve into one of those bookstacks I have lying around here. I've signed up for a reading challenge, which you can read more about here. And isn't that just what I need -another reason to read :)

I been thinking about going to the movies -in a real theater, even. Usually I just wait for the DVD, especially now that we have our lovely 47 inch high def flat screen and comfy leather sofa. On second thought, I'll just wait for the DVD, so I can stay home and wear my jammies.

I'm ready for the weekend.

How about you? What big plans do you have for the weekend?