Monday, August 15, 2011
Now that's knitting!
In short, all that is of the body will last as long as a pan of brownies put before a group of little boys; all that is of the soul is as permanent as a resolution to cut sugar and fat from your diet.... Life is a series of full (then emptied) shopping carts, a brief time of bathing your child in the kitchen sink; and after letting the kids have pets you were dubious about and knew you'd be changing the litter for, and after no "ring around the colllar"?...nothing.
Where then, can a housewife find the power to guide and protect her steps?
(no, not shopping for boots)
In one thing and one alone: Philosophy.
To be a philosopher (albeit rubber gloved) is to keep un-harassed-for-sleepovers the woman within you, so that you may transcend equally Jamie Oliver's sticky fingers lobster which makes you weak in the knees, and any grubby Barbies dressed in sparkly track suits which your daughter loves (and you love to stuff behind the sofa). Philosophy will remind you that you are human before being mummy; to not donate too much baking to the sale; nor try to fake enjoyment in emptying a damp bag of hockey equipment. You will not depend on a return invitation for the dinner party you threw, but accept each return of the day as a chance to rub tung oil into the teak--and lastly: accept your eventual death as no more than the dissolution of the many agenda entries, appointments, coupons for Perrier, and kitchen tips of which each housewife is composed. If those elements themselves don't notice whether they are redeemed or not, why look with mistrust on being personally struck from the ledger? It is but Nature's way; and in the ways of Nature there is no evil, nor sparkly track suit, to be found.