Spring Cleaning

I do not know what's in that drawer
I never have been there before
And that box underneath my bed
Just knowing it's there fills me with dread
Yesterday, just after noon
I walked into my laundry room
There's cupboards there too high to reach
(Heaven knows what's underneath)
I looked until the stool I found
And gamely climbed up from the ground
I opened up those cabinet doors
Saw things I'd never seen before
Went further still, opened the next
I must admit that I was vexed
Twas obvious that some poor soul
Endeavored faithfully in the role
Of hiding away things we needed no more
Nobody wanted, no one adored
Worked hard to fit into that space
A cartop carrier, a violin case
Six chair covers, four beach towels
Riding gear, gardening trowels
Paint in cotten candy colors
Navy blue and I'm sure there were others
My enthuisiasm for the chore was gone
There was no reason to go on
With heavy heart my eyes did roam
From my perch, around my home
Spring will come again next year
I'll do it then, I will, I swear...

The Chaos Theory

I thrive on tidy chaos. The illusion of order is very important to me. I'm a habitual list maker, but I usually can't find the lists once they're prepared. I like a good schedule, a well made plan, traditons, and I like to check things off when they're complete, it makes me feel productive. However, I can't cope with uniformity, too many straight lines and polished surfaces give me vertigo and I have to lie down-which involves untucking the bed and then re-making it. I like things to be put away, but if you open a drawer or cupboard in my house you'll find a hodge-podge of items that may or may not be related in any way. I don't really mind the mess, I just don't want to see it. I make my bed every morning, but can't sleep at night until everything is untucked again. I don't iron. If a second run through the dryer doesn't make it presentable, it goes in the donation box, I don't need the aggravation. I dust once a week, on Saturday, unless I have something better to do, then it has to wait until the next Saturday. Saturdays are for cleaning, not Tuesdays and never Fridays, it's been a winning system for many years and is not to be tampered with. I almost always have books, Legos, game pieces, hair bows and/or art supplies scattered around my living room, but if you drop by most Sundays those items will be dust free and maybe even neatly piled on one side of the coffee table. At some point in my old age I expect to be color coordinated, I'll be bric-a-brac free and my kitchen sink will be shiny. My closets will contain only the outfits I can still fit into and will no longer be hiding all the hobbies I don't want. My towels will match my shower curtain and I'll own perfectly matched Yorkie Terriers. There will be a perfect polish on my dining room table and I'll know exactly where my purse is. A life with no clutter, what a sad thing indeed....

Peanut Butter Fudge & The Food Pyramid

Dear Sir or Madam:
Upon viewing the food pyramid I find no section assigned to Peanut Butter Fudge. I am sure this was an unintentional omission. It is difficult to decide which of the current groups Peanut Butter Fudge might be labeled. Since it contains proteins and healthy legumes one would think to count it among the Meat, Poultry, Fish, Dry Beans, and Nuts group, but I find that section a little too small to encourage the consumption of a healthy amount of Peanut Butter Fudge. Could you please dedicate a level on the food pyramid to Peanut Butter Fudge? A large section toward the wider end if you don't mind. Thank you.

Sincerely,
Rowena

December 26. .. The Peaceful Side of Christmas

December 26 is my favorite day of the year. Yesterday, Christmas Day, is over. I cooked everything I was supposed to cook. Made everything I was supposed to make. Mailed everything I was supposed to mail. Went every place I was supposed to go. Wrapped everything I was supposed to wrap. Saw everyone I was supposed to see. Opened everything I was supposed to open. And now I have landed, settled to earth like a snowflake from the wind tossed heights of holiday flurries. If Townsend, TN is the "Peaceful Side of the Smokies" then December 26 is definitely the peaceful side of Christmas. It is a lovely continuation of the holidays, a tradition worth keeping: a day of peace. And while I hope Christmas was wonderful, I wish you all a beautiful, peaceful December 26. I am certain you earned it.

Sacrificial Self-Preservation

I often describe myself as a stay-at-home, on-the-go homeschooling mom to three pretty terrific kids. This is our ninth year homeschooling. When acquaintances profess that they are impressed with this, I always warn them that there is nothing remotely impressive about it. I do it for self-preservation.

We almost joined a co-op at the beginning of this school year. It sounded so promising ... art classes, English classes, plays. Plus I really like the other moms and know many of the kids. Then they wanted me to teach a class. Fine. I could do that. But it didn’t stop there ... suddenly there were mom meetings, family meetings, cookouts, field trips, teacher meetings. Someone signed me up for the annual staff associative co-administrative ambassador coordinator wizard. (Yes, I warned them that I knew nothin' about birthin’ no darn annuals.) And then told me that in addition to this I would have to take part in fund raisers and volunteer as class “helper” for another class. There were even whispers of mandatory things. Mandatory?

Uhhhhhh, no thanks. I grabbed the oars and paddled our homeschool fannies right out of that little lagoon! I would've had to sacrifice my favorite homeschool value of simplicity to take part in that co-op.

Recently I was asked by another homeschool mom if I took part in many of the activities with the groups in this area. I answered honestly, "No. The main reason I homeschool is so I don't have to do stuff like that ... " She was relieved since she rather thought the same thing, and you can imagine that this was a big relief to me.

I have been through years in public schools, and while I am definitely not one of those homeschool nazi moms who thinks everyone should homeschool or that public schools are bad, I have experienced that run-ragged-ness brought on by parent groups and fund raisers and Fall Festivals, Winter Festivals, Spring Flings, dances, standardized tests, Field Days, teacher appreciation luncheons, etc. One year, I cried for a week after school was out because I was worn out ... and just think about my kids! And in the area I live in each of my kids would be in separate schools. So, I’d have to multiply the above list by three!

Nothing is simple in this world. I realize that. But shouldn’t it be? I admit that I homeschool for the simplicity of it. There is nothing heroic about it. It’s just plain old self-preservation.

Is there something wrong with me?

Thanksgiving Magic

The magic of Thanksgiving is an enigma even more mysterious than Santa, the tooth fairy or the Easter bunny. Most will blissfully wander through their entire lives in the dark, never giving thought to the who or the why of it, comfortable in the knowledge that it is dependable and everlasting. If you live to be one hundred, it will appear one hundred times. Oh, but for a privileged few of us, the brave and the strong, the magic is unveiled. If your reading this, you are probably one of the select. And you know, like I know...That at four o'clock on the fourth Thursday of November, after the parades and football games, after your friends and relatives have arrived, after a couple of glasses of wine, when the "others" wander into the dining room and settle in front of their plates... We know, that those seventeen dishes of scrumptious Thanksgiving fare, four desserts and homemade cornucopia didn't just appear out of thin air.

Day Nine...

Delirium has set in. My husband has lost fourteen pounds, my kid's cheeks are looking hollow, but pioneer stock will tell and I was built for harsh winters. On these, the days leading to our celebration of Thanksgiving, I feel certain that, had I been around, I would have been at that first feast. Long, disease filled ocean crossings, unforgiving seasons and lack of food would not have done me in. I'm like those little frogs that can hibernate for years until the rains come again, then spring to life, hardy and robust.


My husband has hid the scale, he says I don't need it that I look like the day he married me. He's lying because he wants toast with his butter for breakfast tomorrow. It won't work.

Day Three...

Day three of my low carb diet

I've lost my will to live. My "all the bacon and eggs you can eat" high is gone. My house is bereft of sugar, flour, pasta, rice, and potatoes. Freezer burned won-ton wrappers are starting to look yummy to me. I've been straining my brain trying to figure out how to make chocolate out of Splenda and pork rinds (please forward your recipes). My kids have taken to eating their PB&J in their rooms out of fear. But I did have a break through today- I was able to get my wedding rings on...

The First Day of the Rest of Our Lives

You never know when it might happen. You just wake up one morning, you have breakfast, you get dressed, you plan to go about your day. But, you know today is special, different somehow, you can feel it in the air. You drive into town, it's better today, the air smells fresh, a south wind has blown in during the night sending all the dust and VB boxes toward Adelaide, the sun is shining, your coffee is a double mocha with no calories. Your hair is perfect, your new Capri's take ten pounds off and your husband has the day off from work so you don't even have any kids tagging along. You put on make-up, today is a big day after all, and meet your friends. Then, at exactly 8:00 am NT time (8:15 for everyone else) it happens...Your very first Target opens.



<--this is the the line to get in.

This is some crazy lady who wouldn't get out of the

picture.-->




We're still waiting on the Cinnabon and the Starbucks, but Target, well Target is a great start. Way to go Alice!

Nancy Drew, Shame On You ...

I decided to read the kids a Nancy Drew book. I grabbed my copy of The Mystery At Lilac Inn off the bookshelf. It is imprinted with a copyright from 1930, so it is one of the originals it would seem. A few pages into it, my son announced that he knew what would happen next - the dinosaurs would go extinct. I think it was the way the characters "alighted" from "roadsters" on their way to "luncheons" that gave him the impression that the book was a bit antiquated. It wasn't long after that I read my way into some alarmingly racist references. I was appalled, stared at the page for a moment, and then slammed the book back on the shelf announcing that we would find something else to read that was less offensive. The kids alternately stared at me, each other, and their own eyebrows even as they sported "Elvis lips". My son said, "Sure." And he scrambled away from the table to grab a basketball and head outside.

Augh! I had saved these books from my childhood to share with my own daughter. The more I thought about it the more bothered I became, so I did a little Nancy Drew Racism Googling. I found this:

http://www.salon.com/mwt/feature/1999/10/07/nancydrew/

As the mother of rather colorful children with skin of various shades of browns I guess I might be more sensitive than most, and oddly when I read the books myself as a child I never noticed these offenses. Either I sped-read my way over them or was so caught up in the mystery that I missed them. Maybe in the innocence of childhood I just didn't "get it". My older eyes, my older heart, my mothering mind caught them, and I am saddened.

Sigh.

This isn't the first classic that has gone unfinished in my house. Some I have read and tried to leave out the offensive parts with intolerant references to skin colors and ethnicities. That is a difficult way to read a book aloud. I have heard that Nancy's books have been revised to modernize her haughty ways, but I'm afraid to try them. If any of you have read updated Nancy Drew mysteries please let me know your impressions.