The Joyful Housewife

You know me - I believe life is not a race - so I think you’ll forgive me for posting my Marriage Monday reflection on Tuesday. I’m so determined start a dialogue about marriage that I’m committed to attempting a weekly post about it.

I just….haven’t been able to do it regularly yet.

This week, I’ve been reading Flux, by Peggy Orenstein and I came upon a paragraph that mirrors feelings I’ve had about my husband that I hadn’t been able to put into words. The emphases are mine.

As I turned back to my computer screen, Steven came in, bearing a bowl of udon, a kind of Japanese noodle soup, for my lunch. He set it down beside me, then quietly left the room. It was a small gesture, but I realized that in our relationship, those gestures were usually his. He was the one who worked the garden, who cooked, who found special things to display on the walls. He had made our home a sanctuary. It occurred to me that he was the kind of person I wished I were: the kind who could be accomplished in the outside world yet create a cozy environment at home without either role threatening the other. He had found the balance that I lacked. The longer I was married to Steven, the more I appreciated what he brought to our relationship. Ironically some of his strengths are those most associated with women. Through him I was slowly learning that I could have connection without submission, domesticity without a betrayal of self. Those lessons did not come easily to a woman whose feminism was built on the primacy of autonomy and achievement, who saw any step toward traditional spheres of femininity as backsliding. I write about women, but it took a man to teach me this.

Wow! This blew me away. I feel so fortunate to have met a man who is as unconventional as I am. Just as I’ve not been overly comfortable discussing certain “women’s topics” such as purses and shoes, he’s never been really comfortable talking sports. I remember him telling me in the beginning that he didn’t believe in traditional gender stereotypes (Boy, did I score when I met him!) and I’ve been well aware that knowing him has changed me, but I didn’t realize that his nurturing actions could have so profound an effect on my perception of myself as a woman.

Like Peggy, I grew up thinking that “any step toward traditional spheres of femininity as backsliding.” For much of my life I saw taking too much of an interest in such things as cooking and sewing as moving away from my opportunity to reach my potential. I grew up with the belief that I could and should “do anything” (that is, anything that wasn’t traditionally “women’s work”). I rejected the idea that I should sacrifice myself for a husband and children.

I think I’ve developed this blog as a way to address my ambiguity about these issues. I’m obsessed with the idea of the housewife - how I’ve never wanted to be one - how I’m beginning to question what it actually means to be one in the 21st century, now that women are no longer stuck “inside,” but are always connected to the rest of the world through the internet, continually networking and creating new definitions of “work.”

My husband’s generosity and care for me reminds me that caring for a family and making my home a sanctuary from the outside world is pretty much what gives my life meaning. Work is important in my life, and it has brought feelings of accomplishment and confidence that nothing else has, but it doesn’t have to be mutually exclusive of settling into domestic life with my life partner and future children.

The fact that my husband - a very accomplished man - can cook, buy plants for the house, be the one who remembers to water said plants, garden, and get excited about buying a vintage rug for the living room, proves that I can do such things without giving another thought to what it says about my gender or my potential to be “successful” in this world. Cooking for my husband (and myself) or packing his lunch, does not undermine my autonomy or my or my ability to “be accomplished” outside the home.

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My sister sent this to me. She’s a mom of four and can no doubt relate to this on levels that I can’t. But, I think it’s pretty darn funny. It’s pretty good for a laugh on a Sunday night. Actually, you’ve probably seen some of the short versions of this if you’ve been watching the olympics, but this version is better.

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Hello BlogTrotters!

Welcome to the mile high city (5,280 feet)! More specifically, though, welcome to the Potter Highlands. Aside from Denver’s Coors Field, Invesco Field, zoo, aquarium, botanic gardens, art museum, and Six Flags Elitch Gardens, Denver has many attractive neighborhoods. We’ll concentrate on my own, the historic Potter Highlands.

This beautiful and historic neighborhood is populated with colorful Craftsman and Victorian style houses.

Above is a Bed & Breakfast down the street from my house: The Lumber Baron.

Please click here to read the rest of my Denver tour - and to see lots more pictures!

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One of the tons of wonderful things I’ve learned from my husband is how to make vinaigrette. He’s very anti-bottled-dressing (I’ve gently reminded him that I grew up in a single parent home and wasn’t even aware that there was an alternative, aside from ambitious, gourmet types).

It’s incredibly easy and it’s almost the only thing we put on our salads. The only bottled dressing we’ve used this past year is Annie’s Goddess dressing (and ranch, which we don’t put on salads, but which I use to dip many, many different foods into, from veggies to pizza.)

Anyway, it’s so easy that, although we were too tired to cook tonight and Tim picked up pasta from our favorite Italian restaurant on the way home, I still made a salad AND a dressing.

So how does one make a vinaigrette, you ask? The materials I like best are a small teacup (see photo), because I’m usually making a small salad for two people, and a fork to whisk with. I’ve tried a bowl and a real whisk, but for me, the fork works better (I also use it to scramble eggs for french toast batter).

Next, choose your vinegar. We have been using sherry vinegar lately, but in the past we have used red or white wine vinegar, or balsamic vinegar. I’ve also heard you can use lemon juice, but I haven’t tried it. For myself, I’ve used a fancy fig flavored balsamic vinegar that I bought for my husband and he never used once. I put this on a salad that featured strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries.

Put one or two tablespoons in the cup or bowl (eyeball it.)

Next, add seasonings that you would like to dissolve in it. I always add salt and cracked black pepper. You can mix it up by adding a dash of cayenne, as well, or white pepper instead of the black. This is also when we often add garlic. Usually a fresh clove pressed in a garlic presser. Raw garlic is very good for you but causes potent burbs, so beware!

The final ingredient before the oil is a tiny bit of dijon mustard. We sometimes leave it out, but it’s very good in the dressing. Try not to use too much.

Whisk a bit with the fork to mix the additions into the vinegar.

Finally, add extra virgin olive oil. A good rule is about 2:1 oil vs vinegar. If you are using a teacup, completely cover the top of the vinegar with the oil. Whisk, whisk, whisk, and taste. Add whatever you think is missing, toss on salad, and enjoy!

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My sister an I are taking a break from mom’s house and hanging out at a local coffee shop with our laptops. The place is called The Library and is filled with used books. When C settled into her comfy chair she pulled this one of the shelf next to her and said, “Really? Do you really think this should be a book?”

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There you have it ladies and gents. I just took this quiz about whether or not I would make a good retro housewife and the results are not at all surprising!

You Would Make a Horrible 1930’s Wife

You are way too non conformist, independent, and sassy to be an ideal retro wife. You may be so wild that you aren’t even considering marriage! Good thing we don’t live in the 1930s anymore!

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A Date With Your Family!

I found this scary, but funny, 1950s education film via and article called 5 Tips For Dating Your Family. It’s worth a glance even if you don’t have time to watch the whole thing.

And if you’d like even more comedy about the squirmy thought of being on a date with your family, click on the article link, read the five tips, and then scroll down to the bottom to read the readers comments, such as:

“I broke all these rules. Yesterday after dinner my mom talked about pregnant teenagers or something, so I drunkenly yelled “DON’T PEOPLE GET ABORTIONS ANYMORE!?”

Silence.

Glare of death from my VERY catholic grandmother.”

~femme-bot

and:

“I don’t want to belong to my family, never mind date them.”

~PaintedTrollop

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I’ve discovered a new way to find new bloggers which I will love to read. It started a couple of weeks ago when I saw this Suburban Housewife rap video:

(Don’t watch it if you’re adverse to swearing and rap music.)

I was trying to find it again, to email it to some friends, and I started stumbling on all the blogs that have already posted it. Many of them are really funny ladies, who blog intelligently about the things that really matter to me. And when they write about their kids (which is often, because hey, once you pop them out, they’re there forever) I don’t feel alienated and left out.

My two favorite finds this week:

TheLiquidBetsy: the business of life in one swig

Land of Bean: It’s her world, we’re just lucky to live in it

Check them out - because good writing is a pleasure to read.

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Don’t worry! This man I speak of passed away before I even knew who he was. His name is Joe Dolan, and he’s been called the Elvis Presley of Ireland. He traveled and performed all over the world, and was the first Western rocker to perform in the USSR. He was extremely well loved and considered a sex symbol, despite his less than perfect looks. 

Now you be the judge. I looked up this song, You’re Such a Good Looking Woman, after I had heard it many times in one of my favorite movies - and now I can’t stop watching it! Joe was an amazing performer (a common saying in the UK is “There’s no show like a Joe show.”) and I know I will be watching this for a pick-me-up whenever the times get rough in California this week.

I can’t embed the video because it was posted on YouTube by Kelly Marie a disco singing friend of his, so please click on the pink link below, or the picture above, to see what I’m talking about. (You’re only cheating yourself if you don’t.)

Joe Dolan sings You’re Such a Good Looking Woman

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It appears that there is a social media answer for everything. If you’re having trouble letting your loved ones know you may have PMS, there is now PMSBuddy.com. Use it to send out alerts to your loved ones of your impending PMS, or use it to keep track of your friends’ moodiness. It reminds me of the story a cousin of mine told me about a co-op house she lived in college, in which the women all tracked their cycles on a wall calendar in the kitchen and then would talk about it: “I see you’re menstruating. How are you feeling about that?”

I’m not sure what I think about the site, but maybe it’s not a big deal to me because I don’t really experience PMS much myself. Sure I get a little bloated once a month and I’ve realized a days later that my weepiness and low self-esteem of late may have coincided with my time of the month, but I’ve hardly ever had cramps - and perhaps because of that I’ve never been a moody witch and then attributed it to PMS.

Women complain about premenstrual syndrome, but I think of it as the only time of the month that I can be myself.

~ Roseanne

While I was doing a PMS search to find a fitting image for this post, I came across a few blogs that I found very entertaining. (Incidentally they have the same taste as me as they have also chosen to use the same image for their PMS posts.) It has since occurred to me that the PMS post may be a litmus test for finding the type of blogs I like to read. Anyway I found these blogs amusing and thought I’d share the link love with you.

This one uses the word gobshite in it (Nothing woos me faster than saucy British English, a fact which is evident by the vast number of British TV comedies and dramas I’ve checked out from the library):

K8 the GR8: Still just a rat in a cage

The author of the next one seems to have the same taste in literature as me, is very amusing and dynamic in her posts, and lives in Cape Town, South Africa:

Being Brazen: Poor Me Syndrome

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