That's right, my peeps. I am coming at you with a new life philosophy. In fact, I'm actually going to make a separate label category for all of the life philosophies I have graced you with. (This has nothing, I assure you, to do with the sinking feeling that I've actually written about this before. Hang on...YES! I totally haven't written about this before. PLUS, I just found two completely usable posts that I never published. Sa-weet.)
Yesterday, I had a craptastic day. It started with fussing kids, it progressed through insane heat ==> a visit from a friend I loved and miss like crazy because she moved away ==> remembering the fun weekend I had with another friend back in Cowtown and becoming depressed ==> an inability to get anything done with the house before winding up with an online argument with a friemily member that made me want to bite my own fingers off and that I TOTALLY should have avoided in the first place. To say I wanted to punch the world in the face would be an understatement.
Before bed, I picked up Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Will got me the set years ago and I love these books like PEOPLE. For the last year or so, they've been with my friend in Cowtown and she returned them this weekend and I've spent the last few days stroking them and murmuring, "My preciousssss..." to them. No, not really.
I have, occasionally, blown kisses to them in passing.
Anyway, last night, rumpled in spirit and being pissy and frustrated, I turned to my book friend and got all wrapped up in 19th century life in the Big Woods of Minnesota. The bears! The maple sugar! The pumpkins in the attic! Good stuff, y'all. Good stuff.
As I read about the first days of winter and the chores the Ingalls family completed during the day, I was intrigued to read (for the billionth time, I'm sure) Ma's weekly chore breakdown. It goes a little something like this:
Sunday: Chill the frick out.
OMFC, I realized. I could TOTALLY do this.
Monday washing would be easy, peasy, fresh and breezy IF I could just get the laundry to conform to a one-day a week model, which would mean catching up. (Can I say as a side note that laundry seems to be the giant, demonic beast for almost every hausfrau I know? If you have a way to keep it orderly and in its baskets and not taking over the world, could you please share it? I would pay you...hang on...forty-two cents and a couple of plastic rhinestones. If you wait til Friday, I might be able to up the pay to ten dollars. And throw in, say, the stubs of ninety-eight crayons?) But what I'm saying is that I think, if I could tame the BEAST, I might be able to do all my washing on Monday. If not, I could certainly scootch some of it to Tuesday.
Because on Tuesday, I'd only be ironing five pairs of pants and five shirts. I'm pretty sure Ma ironed her sheets, which is SO not happening, my friends. Also, she had a piece of actual iron she had to set on her stove to get hot and that lady didn't have any steam options, bless her heart. So I'm thinking that since ironing isn't the crazy-ass bit of drudgery it used to be, I could knock it out a lot faster.
Wednesday would probably NOT be devoted to mending, because I don't know how to darn socks. Can you darn socks nowadays? I mean, could I patch up the forever-degrading heels on Jeffrey's anklets? (A quick scan of the interweb told me I probably could. Also, OMG, I need to learn to knit. I want to make socks now. Sighhhhh.) But even if I couldn't darn the socks, I certainly have enough bags of fabric and stained shirts to be made into clothing and bags and whatnot to justify a separate day for sewing.
Um. Churning. Yeah, probably not going to be churning. Any ideas about what to do for that day? It'd need to include the kids. I was thinking cooking lessons of some kind or maybe yard work. Or cleaning that gawdawful place where the carpet meets the baseboards that collects the dust and hair and yickness of a thousand years. Shudder.
Friday is "cleaning," which seems a wee arbitrary, given that they cleaned their house every day, but I'm thinking this means a mopping, dusting, polishing, extra-vacuuming, scrubbing the cabinets kind of cleaning, which I think could be doable. I might have to wait til Jeffrey goes back to school because he is NOT down with the dusting and while if I could harness the power of his whining, it might clean the grout in the kitchen, I'm not up to dealing with a tantrum every Friday in this heat. Otherwise, this could work.
Saturday baking sounds great to me. First, Will would be home, so I could get some of it done without the kids running around unsupervised as I deal with the week's bread, cookies, rolls, crackers, etc. in a few hours. I had planned to do a bunch of stuff at the beginning of each month, but this would allow me to break it down in such a way that I didn't rip my hair out and wind up weaving around the kitchen at two in the morning raving about pizza dough.
Sunday as a day of rest? All over it, yo. Maybe we could make it into a nature day. A reading day. Heck, we might even get all nutty and start going to the Unitarian Universalist church.
Now, Ma Ingalls did a metric crap-ton more stuff than I do in her days. I am on this computer WAY too much and I have discovered The Fabulous Beekman Boys, with whom I am passionately in love because they are awesome. Alas, they will never be passionately in love with me. But they might sell me soaps, so HECK YEAH. The point is, I watch them sort of compulsively on television. If only they had a vampire or a rakish sky captain trotting around their farm. Oooh, or a smoke monster...
Right. Life philosophy.
In order to do this, I'm gonna have to commit to making some changes, buckling down, organizing my craft supplies, etc. Which I'm totally going to do.