Monday, June 06, 2016

Mrs Egeland Confesses: I'd Make A Lousy Fifties Housewife

Yes, readers it's true. I've come to accepted that I would have made an absolute pigs-ear of being a good housewife in the 1950's.

As much as I would love to live the lifestyle others have so bravely and dedicatedly taken on, living to as far as possible to the standards and social norms of that era I do not. As much as I admire the ways of life, the traditional stay at home wife role, the domestic goddess who always looked her best and kept her husband happy, in an age of patience and good manners, in a simpler time, I have come to accept that had I been born, had my personality been as it is today, I would have made a horrible housewife.

I am at heart an artist, a creative who will quite happily sit and paint rather than wash the floor. I can easily get zoned- out whilst writing or drawing and completely ignore the war zone of dirty dishes in the sink and the hoovering left undone.

A Woman Of My Era

I like my home to be tidy and clean, as do we all, but so long as there are plates to eat off and clothes to wear I can and will leave the chores until later to do something more enjoyable, more creative. I have more self-will than self-control and as much as I dream of the day when I will be able to stay on top of my laundry, ironing, cleaning schedule in a zen-like state, with perfectly coiffured hair, and manicured nails I know that in reality, that day, is far off and quite possibly will never arrive.

I am, it has to be said, a woman of my era. I work part-time, I find entertainment online and via my iPhone, I like using my free time to pamper myself and indulge in my passions. I am not as organized as I could be, not always on top of my chores, I expect my husband to do half of them, I don't bake as much as I'd like, although I cook daily, and as much as my little heart yearns for the pastimes of past times I find my knitting is always half done and my sewing is always waiting to be finished. Even this blog has, as you will have noticed, fallen by the wayside.

Without the modern conveniences of a dishwasher, a tumble dryer and a washing machine would I have to spend more time washing dishes and doing my laundry? No doubt I would, and that would require my spending more of my free time doing those things, but I doubt that it would make me more organized. Because at my core I am a creative, go-with-the-flow, spontaneous sprite who revels in writing fantasy novels and painting pictures of Vespas whilst listening to big band music and RPG soundtracks.


The Dream Perdures

If I could afford never to work again, to be a full-time housewife, I seriously doubt I would be a better one. Why? I'm quite convinced I'd find plenty of other things to do instead of rigorously cleaning my home from top to bottom, baking cakes or darning socks.

Still the dream perdures, and even now I can imagine my home immaculately clean, a loaf of bread baking in the oven, hot coffee in the pot, all my laundry laundered, ironed, folded and put away and myself dressed beautifully and made up ready for the day ahead. In reality, my home is a little untidy, there's nothing baking at all, coffee is instant because I'm unwilling to make the effort to grind beans right at this moment, my laundry stares at me offended and neglected as it waits for me to iron and fold it and put it away and I'm sitting in my pyjamas writing this blog, my hair a mess and not a scrap of makeup, simultaneously communicating with my intimate friends about my horrific sleep pattern via Whatsapp. Of course in my dreams, my home isn't a one bedroomed flat on the third floor, but a three bedroomed cottage with a vegetable garden overlooking the sea and roses around the door.

Yet striving for our dreams is what keeps us getting up in the morning, hoping for that glorious day when everything will be better, less stressful and we will awake feeling more refreshed, less tired and with more energy to bounce around doing all those things we would love to do if we had the energy and inclination.

So even if I never become a Fifties-esc domestic goddess, or a best-selling novelist with a tiny waist, the dream will endure until either the dream becomes a reality (highly unlikely) or I die trying. Not to be a downer or anything but really, that's just the way life is, isn't it? If we don't strive for our dreams how are we ever supposed to achieve them, even if the best things come to us from the journey and not the destination.

Until next time.

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P.S. Check out my updated page "Mrs Egeland's Other Projects" and check out my novel.
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