Thursday, June 26, 2008

Oh JOY

Cheer of the week: Our room no longer smells like rotting, dead mouse. Are we happy? Are we excited? Are we actually spending time in our room again? YES, YES, YES!!!! It's true that it probably just fell down the wall into the lower part of the garage and then dried up, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that it is gone from our room, where we live, work, sleep and most of all breath.

Monday, June 23, 2008

London Telegraph

This article by Jemima Lewis of the London Telegraph, I found quite interesting and a rather refreshing take on being a wife and mother. But most of all the line "There is something so illicit, so counter-cultural, about being an old-fashioned wife. Every time I tiptoe downstairs with the baby, so that the master can have his Sunday lie-in, I feel as naughty as if I were sneaking off for a midnight feast." makes me grin and I can only hope that someday, I too, might practice this wild and crazy lifestyle.

How I Score on the Marital Ratings Scale
by Jemima Lewis

It is a well-known fact that anything old relating to sex or marriage must be simply hilarious. So the rediscovery of a 1939 questionnaire designed to help men identify the perfect wife has caused predictable convulsions of merriment.

The Marital Ratings Scale was invented by an American agony uncle, Dr George Crane, who also had a sideline as a matchmaker. It gives positive and negative ratings to a variety of wifely behaviours, so that the woman in question can be placed on a scale ranging from “very poor” to “very superior”.

Going to bed with curlers in, for instance, will set her back by one “demerit”, as will shirking conjugal relations, failing to darn his socks, flirting with other men or wearing the seams of her stockings crooked. Having a “jolly” sense of humour, being a good hostess and conversationalist, putting the children to bed “personally” (rather than delegating to the nanny) and letting her husband sleep in on Sundays are qualities worth one merit each.

The American Psychological Association, which has republished the test, gives it this health warning: “Most people who read the test today find it humorous and obviously outdated.” Really? It seems to me a pretty accurate description of what most men still want from a wife. And, leaving aside the preoccupation with hosiery, it is not an unreasonable wish list. The ideal wife, it suggests, would be sociable, fun, intelligent, kindly, domesticated and good to look at. It might be asking a bit much that she should play the violin and dress for breakfast, but it never hurts to aim high.

Besides, if these desires are old-fashioned, so too are most marriages. No sooner has a woman stretched out her finger to receive the fateful sparkler than she is zapped back half a century, to a time when men were men and women were fragrant empresses of the domestic sphere. The day after he proposed to me, at the end of a holiday in Egypt, my husband leaned back into his aeroplane seat and gave a great sigh of satisfaction. “What a relief,” he declared. “Now I need never write a thank you letter again.” And despite my squeaks of outrage, so it has proved: I write the letters, remember the birthdays, maintain all those human relations that are assumed to be a wife’s “department”.

And if that seems a little retrograde, you should see what happens when you add a baby to the mix. The combination of exhaustion, breast-feeding and baby-love renders a new mother virtually housebound for months, during which time she absorbs, as if by osmosis, responsibility for the homestead and all who dwell in it. By the time she emerges back into the light, it is too late.

No one else will organise the babysitter, get the cat to the vet or stock the fridge, let alone make computerised lists of the holiday packing. I am luckier than some: my husband is as nifty with a saucepan as he is with a power drill. And I find it rather thrilling to unleash my inner hausfrau.

There is something so illicit, so counter-cultural, about being an old-fashioned wife. Every time I tiptoe downstairs with the baby, so that the master can have his Sunday lie-in, I feel as naughty as if I were sneaking off for a midnight feast. If I could just get my stockings straight, my marital rating would be off the chart.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

The waste of trees

Martha Stewert eh? Well ah think ah could write me a little home magazine jess as good as hers!

Opening article, talk about myself.

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Give advice on anything from cookies to marriage counseling....put chocolate in everything and don't on any terms redecorate with your spouse, the divorce court won't be far behind.

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Expound my wonderful home, which I keep revamping and up-dating, and repainting Oh and my laundry room is five hundred square feet, set up for optimum use with two washers and dryers.

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Write up how to best iron a shirt, never mind that any idiot who irons should know, start with the collar and sleeves. But the real nugget of information you glean from this is...legally you can watch a movie while ironing because it is "work" you are doing.

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Show pictures of my beautiful garden and casually throw out "my garden staff and I" before going on to rhapsodizing about planting ten thousand tulip bulbs. And insisting that with a little ingenuity YOU too could do this project.

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Nonchalantly explain that this week I'm throwing a dinner party for two hundred guests, and among those coming will be the Queen of England, George Clooney, Bono, Maria Carey, Joshua Bell and a Kennedy. Laugh lightly and continue on to say since my old leaded crystal wine glasses would be SO out of place at an outdoor dinner I decided to blow some new ones. And not just any old hand blown ones either, red ones, which includes adding real gold to the molten glass, as everyone knows, rich red tones only come when married to gold.

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Create an easy meal plan for the busy housewife:

Braised quayle roasted over an open fire and stuffed with shitaki mushrooms, tumric and chestnuts.

Arugula and spinach salad with wild blueberries, hand shelled pine nuts and a complicated dressing that includes fifteen different ingredients.

Slow roasted mashed potatoes, that MUST come from your own garden and dug up that morning, along with exotic wild garlic and Moroccan pepper.

Strawberries marinated in fine white sugar, balsamic vinegar and organic vanilla beans. Poured over whipped cream that has been folded into mascarpone cheese and powdered sugar.

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Write up some recipes that I stole from other people

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Talk about the books I'm writing, admonish everyone to rush out and buy them.

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Write long windedly on how if you have enough money you can do ANYTHING with your home. If you happen to be an antique dealer back east with a 1850s Salt Box house mores the better. Show what darling things people do with the odd diamonds and pearls they have laying about the place. Oh don't forget, now you can couple a Gorgian chair with a Queen Ann's table and no one will look askance. We are breaking down ALL norms in home decore dear.

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End with a short article on myself, and the chocolate cookie of the month. Advertise some more.

Saturday, June 7, 2008

Things running through...

My Mind

Who invented the stupid edge cutter on plastic wrap? One word Gggggrrrr.

Strangely enough, shopping at Costco is quite fun, golly, who wouldn't like pushing around a flatbed cart and buying enough victuals to feed an army?

I dislike Peter Pan, he needs a spanking.

Wal-Mart....shudder.

What's with the mice taking over our bedroom!

Cretin drivers in the parking lots, THERE ARE LINES FOR A REASON!

Penny thrillers, trashy romances and teen novels are the bane of our time. Go into a book store, gaze upon the rows of rubbish and think "the forests were cut down for this? Why didn't they just make toothpicks out of 'em?".

Have you ever walked into a store took a deep breath and thought "hhmm plastic!"?

I don't understand, why don't Producers make movies of the books they love, and leave the books WE love alone. Unless the books they love are to idiotic to make into films.

In polite society you are supposed to eat corn on the cob like a typewriter, from left to right, not around in a circle, but who made up that rule?

When will people who are concerned with overpopulation, offer to rub themselves out?

Things are a lot more interesting if you have a good book on tape.

Sunday, June 1, 2008

James

Who is wise and understanding among you? Let him show it by his good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom.



But if you harbor bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast about it or deny the truth. Such "wisdom" does not come down from heave but is earthly, unspriritual, of the devil. For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you find disorder and every evil practice.


BUT the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace raise a harvest of righteousness.