Friday, March 20, 2009

on big ideas

Life's tough when you have to catch up on your reading in the washing-basket boat.

Otherwise, today’s jobs included baking another failed loaf, making a better attempt at yesterdays leaf-art, pureeing Teddy up a big load of organic pumpkin, carrot, broccoli and apples, dancing wildly at music class and indulging Ivy in today's joke: saying ‘Pants!’ in a variety of tones and accents.

Next weeks plans include making up a batch of laundry liquid, planting bok choi and silverbeet, undercoating the kitchen cupboards, starting my patchwork kitchen curtain and putting the next coat on the paintings for Ivy and Teddy’s rooms.

I realise that this list is kind of pointlessly ambitious; especially considering the full-time care and maintenance of the two little people in my charge is an exhausting task in and of itself. I try and work at earning a little cash too, in between T-Bones sleeps on a Tuesday.

I think I concoct these big plans for myself for three reasons.

1. I have an attention-span problem.

2. The life of a domestic goddess is mostly drudge, and not much glory, even though I do my best to list all tasks I’ve completed to Keith whenever he makes the mistake of crossing my path in the daytime. I’ve complained about housework here before, so I won’t go on, although I could. You know I could. I’m fighting the urge right now! A magazine once paid me a thousand bucks to complain about it (making me, I’m not proud to state, a professional whinger). The endless loop of washing, cooking, cleaning could drive anybody to the numbing tedium of daytime TV or Serapax. You gotta mix it up and find ways to make it interesting. In fact, I love the domestic zone. I potter, I plan, Teddy crawls, Ivy does her thing and the radio talks interesting blabber. My little timber house is my buddy.

3. I’m enjoying my slow slide into paranoid survivalist mode. Grass Roots is my favourite magazine and nouveau-homesteader blogs have become my porn. I can’t get enough how-to articles: sew nappy covers, plant winter vegetables, build a solar dehydrator. Although when I recently found myself poring intently over how to sew a penis-pouch pants-stuffer for transsexuals, I thought I’d better back away and get back to pureeing my carrots. (No pun intended).

So I’ll plan big and achieve small.

I’m OK with that.

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Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.