The Exercise of a Housewife



The other day I found myself completely enchanted with my life.

Not as though I was feet-up on a floating lily pad lounging in a southern sun vacation.

No.

I was housecleaning.

And I was sweating and breathing hard and scrubbing and organizing and dusting and sweating more. My hormones bounced beneath my skin as my heart sang in beats. It was a fulfilling-of-my-creation type moment and I felt like the luckiest (sweaty) woman on this planet. In an apron--no less.

Here I was in my domain (I have a domain!) in my kingdom making it orderly and tidy. Everything in its place (everything has a place!) all clean and accounted for. Books, toys, clothes, dishes and towels. Mirrors wiped, spots soaked, laundry folded.

Brow swept.

Even if the moment of perfection lasts only that one second between my picking up the train pieces and The Chief's dumping them out again, it is worth the brief moment in time. I thought to myself. Cleaning music in the background, dancing in my ears.

This thrill is mine to enjoy, so I enjoyed it.

Then I thought about other women. How some have the same pleasure sitting in a board meeting. How some live to broker deals. How some can't wait to get to their desk job. And it occurred to me, should we all arrive at the same exhilaration, the point should be made: a hard working woman is a happy woman.

And that was my conclusion as I used the hand vac to clean the stairs.







p.s. Lucy found this bottle of Comet in the recesses of Retro House . Vintage Comet
(3 cents off!).
ebay that!





On dear c jane today:
You ask me,
What are Halftees?
Then I answer . . .


On c jane's Guide to Provo today:
Bean Museum,
Helping Haiti
and Half Tees
It's a bucket of variety!

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