we just moved into a new house. it's a post war bungalow and it's turning me into a susie-homemaker. i'm on the verge of buying a cake platter and a candy dish.
all i've done since moving in are cook and clean and smile fondly. this morning i made christmas nuts'n'bolts -- and what says '50's housewife' more than savoury recipes involving packaged dry cereal? i think the ghosts of Housewives Past are gently nudging me along with their dustpans. when the step-bug arrived home for lunch today, i had a cheese and (soy) luncheon meat sandwich ready on the table for him along with a bowl of tomato soup from the can.
this morning i also bought a christmas tree, but passed on the opportunity to have it delivered. there was, though, i admit, a moment where i indulged in the fantasy of shopping in heels and a hat -- gloves and pocket book in one hand, pointing at the things i want with the other so that the scurrying grocery boy behind me could grab them and put them in my delivery box.
to redeem myself in my own mind i lugged the tree home by myself, on foot, in a rain storm.
but we're all very interested to see how long this possession of mine will carry on. so far, all the cooking and fussing are a pleasure and don't feel contrived in the least, leading one to wonder if, at last, i've finally found my calling.
mind you, the glass doorknobs, marbled linoleum floor and arborite counters really do make it all easy. easy to hum and scrub, easy to bake and pinch, easy to greet your sweetheart at the door in nothing but an apron and a wink.
3 comments:
heeeey! No fair! To all of the above, esspecially the apron and the wink part.
i'm trying to post a comment on Mrs. Tittlemouse - she was peevish - remember? That was your new word for a week - you kept on telling people that they were peevish!
ah, mrs. tittlemouse. whatever happened to mr. tittlemouse, do you think? i loved her because she got everything i wanted -- a matchbox bed, a pretty victorian dress, lots of friends for tea, and a tidy personality.
i'm more like a lone sloth, making her mossy way through the wet and tangled world. actually, i think i may be a cross between a lone sloth and miss. piggy. frightening thought. (so, would that make me a pink, self-centred, anti-social sloth? or a mossy, contrary pig?)
i do remember liking the word 'peevish' though. right now i'm a fan of 'contrary'.
i often feel contrary.
(aside: burgled is good, too.
we were burgled.
ha ha! it's funny! burgled.)
er. *ahem* anyway. nevermind. carry on. as you were.
Post a Comment