on becoming happy

The thing about being a housewife is that you must embrace it fully or you'll never survive.

For years I bucked against the system. I was sure that the good Lord intended for me to be the next top editor at Harper and Collins.

I wore my hair in a pixie. I bought designer make-up and expensive black clothes. I was chic and unhappy. Whatever.

Malphi

One of life's great truths is that babies soften you. I didn't know who I really was until I saw myself reflected in my children eyes. I didn't know that I loved to crochet until I made the boy's baby blanket. I didn't know I loved to bake until I baked a birthday cake.

There is an old story about an African farmer who, upon hearing that other men were becoming rich by finding diamond mines, sold off his land and went in search of his fortune. He searched for many years and died a poor man. Meanwhile, the young family who bought his land discovered crusty old rocks in the soil which turned out to be diamonds.

Sometimes you are sitting on a fortune. Sometimes you have to do a little work to uncover your diamonds. What looks like ugly rocks, could be just the thing you are looking for to make you happy.

Constança

I find housework is made much more enjoyable by the wearing of aprons. I consider them my uniform. I wear them to cook. I wear them to silversmith. I wear them to rock my baby to sleep. They help me take the tarnish off my life.

They make me feel official. They make me feel like a resourceful woman.

They make me feel like a diamond in the rough.

sat*tis*faction

You cook. You clean. You fold laundry and pull weeds. You put the same plates in the dishwasher day after day.

And do you get satisfaction from all this?

I don't.

But I know a little secret. One of the easiest ways for a domestic engineer to acquire the satisfaction that so alludes us is to can.

Jams and Jellies are the easiest.


Yesterday I finally got around to making my pomegranate jelly from the fruit that I juiced and froze last fall.

It had been nagging at me. Every time I open the freezer there it was peeking out underneath the frozen chicken breasts. It would say to me, "Helloooo? Are you going to do anything with me or what?"

And folks, I don't need that monkey on my back. I've already got two, as in kid monkeys, not addictions. Although I have my fair share of those too. Nothing serious. Don't send the cops.

I tell ya, there is soooo much satisfaction in looking at those deep crimson jars sitting on my counter like precious gems. And they are precious. I get a ton a mileage out of divvying this jelly out to friends who crave it's sweet tartness on their morning toast. You know who you are, you jelly fiends, you!

Oh, and I couldn't help myself, I had to carve a stamp for the tops of the jars. I make this jelly every year, and every year I write on the top "Pomegranate Jelly". Blah. How boring. A stamp is much better, don't you think?

The jelly is done. I don't have to do it again tomorrow.

The next crop of pomegranates will be ready to pick in October, but I'm pretending that's a long way off.

the big cleanse

Here it is the 6th of January and my Christmas decorations are still up. You would think I didn't know that all magic, even Christmas magic, has a dark side. The dark side to Christmas magic is that on the stroke of midnight, when the calendar rolls over to December 26th, all Christmas decorations become sad and cluttered looking.

I couldn't help it really. Usually I have the glitter and bobbles wrapped and carefully tucked away before New Years. But I was out of town and so we had to return to a house that felt like a ghost town. Remains of what used to be.

So today is the day. I am ordering in sushi for lunch and I have coerced Jenny into coming over under the guise of a relaxing afternoon. I'll butter her up with a spicy salmon hand roll and put her to work.

I actually began my thorough cleaning project yesterday starting on the boy. It was back to school day and high time to scrub behind the ears and clip back fingernails caked with play dough. I scrubbed his head and checked his armpits. He cried out once or twice at the inhumanity of my project, but in the end he succumbed.


Oh happy day! Back to school! After dropping him off at his classroom, I had a knee jerk reaction to go get a cocktail. Then I remembered, oh yeah, my new diet, and then, oh yeah, I don't drink. So I went home and thoroughly enjoyed a ridiculously long, hot, kid-free shower and ate an entire tangerine without having to share one single segment.

a couture cubical

A team of researchers explored the link between flowers and life satisfaction in a 10-month study of participants' behavioral and emotional responses to receiving flowers. The results show that flowers are a natural and healthful moderator of moods.

"What's most exciting about this study is that it challenges established scientific beliefs about how people can manage their day-to-day moods in a healthy and natural way," said Jeannette Haviland-Jones, Ph.D., Professor of Psychology at Rutgers and lead researcher on the study.

I have been told, by a few choice and dear people, that I can be a teensy bit moody. Bless their soles. I don't know if any of the tens of people that read this blog noticed, but last week, I was a little down. This morning when I arrived at my work space (a.k.a. the kitchen) the first thing I noticed was the flowers I had bought myself yesterday. This is a little present I give myself every week. A $10 bouquet from the market. I didn't buy any flowers last week. I think that seeing the flowers helped boost my spirits and set the tone for the rest of the day.

Here I am, at my work space (the tidy one) in my uniform. Photography credits must go to one five year old boy who, after many tries didn't get me actually looking at the camera, but who, nevertheless gave a valiant effort. I am happy to claim the kitchen island as my personal work space, if only I could get people to take a number when they want something.

I'd just like to put in a little plug for beautifying you life. If you can't buy flowers, grow them. If you can't grow them, steal the neighbors. I think it is vital to surround yourself with things that inspire you. If you're not a flower girl, get some fruit or art, or gosh, I don't know, a great cupcake or a fabulous pair of shoes, and put them on your desk. I would go so far as to tack up damask wall paper in my cubical. Do whatever you can get away with, your moods will thank me.

design sunday

I wear aprons. I know this may seem a little passe', maybe even a little um, "Pleasantvillish", but I love them. They are practical and why women quit wearing them is beyond me. When my grandmother died a few years ago, I requested and got one of her aprons and her Better Homes and Gardens red check cookbook with hand written notes jotted in the margins. I felt like I inherited pure gold.

Maybe I feel that an apron is my mom uniform. I think people need uniforms. They give you a sense of capability and authority. Take security guards for example. Those guys think they are really in charge just because they have on a dark suit with a fabric shield patch. They get this Barney Fife attitude, telling me I can't park here or I can't walk there, that makes me want to reach out and thwack them between the eyes. But I digress. My point is just that people tend to become the uniform.

Back in March, the crafty chicks made crazy aprons. Here's the one I made.

I recently found this wonderful little book with simple patterns for making various aprons. I tend to like vintage patterns, especially bib aprons that cross in the back, but it is full of fun projects both modern and vintage inspired. One of my favorite projects is an apron with a tea towel sewn into the waist band to wipe your hands on. Talk about useful.

There are also some really great books on collecting vintage aprons and the culture behind aprons. Yes, aprons have their own culture. Check out Amazon for these fab books.

There are also a ton of super talented women making and selling their own aprons. I bought this one through Sundarose and I wear it all the time.

Check out the following links if you want to join my apron revolution. My motto is this: Aprons have nothing to do with repression. They are really about sensibility, fashion and self expression.

Apron Memories

Rick Rack Attack

Angry Chicken

Angry Chicken has more links for new vintage style handmade aprons.