“I
always feel behind since I’ve been watching TV for an hour or two each night
with DeRay.”
“Behind on what? What do you have to do?” both my daughter and
my sister queried simultaneously.
“Oh,
you know the housework.” Truthfully, I
really couldn’t think of anything significant that I need to do and that I feel
behind on.
They
snickered.
It
was then I realized that I don’t do anything important. That really pierced me. Not that they said it, but that it is true.
What could I say to these two career
women? They are making a contribution to
the world. Even though I thought all the
next day, I could think of nothing noteworthy that I do or have done. Nothing.
1. Hang on! I’m pretty much in charge of the garbage; both
getting it out to the can and the can on the street each week.
2. When you absolutely
cannot find anything in the freezers and the frost is as thick as the Arctic, I
defrost and organize them.
3. When slimy stuff from
rotten cucumbers, peppers, cabbage, peaches, and apples accumulates in the fridge
drawers, I wash them in sudsy water.
4. I’m the only one who
notices when the toilet paper or paper towels need to be replaced or there is
no soap in the dispensers?
5. Yes, I’m primary
cleaning lady in a 3-story house. Amy
does the basement, of course, but that leaves me two floors to vacuum, duh,
duh, duh. Ed cleans his own room but neither ever vacuums the stairs.
I clean the other three bathrooms. Oh
yes, toilets are my absolute favorite. Three stories of windows to wash and
furniture and cabinets to polish.
6. I let the cats in and
out all day long, and when Amy’s gone, I have to gather them in for the night. When I was growing up, the last things we
did before going to bed were to put the cats out and turn out the lights. (We didn't lock our doors.) Our cats didn’t get tuna either.
7. I do laundry for
three and hang the clothes on the line, weather permitting.
8. DeRay plants, weeds
and this year has mainly harvested the garden.
Our garden with the new watering system he has spent two years designing
and installing, was so prolific this year I was glad when I fell down and
smashed all the zucchini plants trying to get up. DeRay thought a herd of cows trampled his
precious plants. He does all the grocery
shopping. That would push me over the
edge. DeRay does a lot: He takes care of the car when I smash the
side mirror on the garage door; picks up my pills; sprays dandelions; pays the
bills; takes care of all the business.
He’s spent a lot of time lately getting Amy’s condo ready to sell. I don’t think I could manage without him. He’s bottled tomato juice alone, zucchini and
made several batches of Mama’s relish.
9. Together we have
bottled like 60 quarts of Chunky Ketchup, 9 quarts of plums, a dozen pints of peach/pineapple marmalade, four cases of
peaches. We’ve frozen beans, peaches,
corn, peppers, Swiss chard, kale, broccoli; and who knows whatall.
10.
Ed
unloads the dishwasher and gets the garbage can in, even though they are not
his forte’, as he points out each and every time.
11.
Speaking
of Ed, I try to spend each morning with him so his days aren’t so long and
boring. We ride trikes, swim, play
games. It’s a tough job but someone has
to do it. Probably, I enjoy it more than
he does but it takes time.
12.
Pretty
much the running of the household falls on me.
I do all the planning and cooking for four. Once in a while on weekends,
if she gets hungry enough, Amy cooks.
Yes, of course, I appreciate it immensely but who cleans up and does the
dishes? When she made RR’s 1/2-hour
recipe for Shepherd’s Pie on Sunday, she complained it took her 3 hours. I swear it took me 6 hours to clean up the
mess.
13.
I’m
president this year of a Fine Arts Club.
I can’t seem to get it right, leaving me irritated and cross. These are some of the grand dames of
Kaysville, having lived here forever. Most of their husbands have been mission
presidents, bishops, doctors, lawyers making them very important indeed. And they are friends. I’ll probably be impeached.
14.
I
like to go to Charmaine’s writing group but it’s nice if you’ve taken the time
to write something. I could go listen to
clever women read what they have written but when DeRay is gone or needs the
car for any little thing, for the past year or so, I’ve had no car. Brooke has returned the van now but I hate to
leave Ed alone too long, especially during the hours I have committed to him.
15.
A
couple of years ago, I was invited to join DUP by my Mahātmā
(great soul) friend in the ward. Whenever
I return from meetings, Ed asks, “Did you have a good time, you gad-about?” I may have made a mistake when I decided I
needed some outside exposure. I don’t
seem to be wired for social life.
16.
I’ve
been reading the same book for over six months.
For the first time in my life, I fall into bed without reading. It’s just too much effort to raise and lower
the bed with the remote control and to find my glasses.
17.
I
could have told them I was behind on my journal but they don’t believe in
journal keeping; and to be honest, they are right. What’s the purpose? I don’t know why I feel compelled to do it.
18.
My
doctor adds to my burdens and feelings of failure.
She wanted me to lose a bunch of pounds; instead I gained a whole bunch
of pounds.
In
a couple of weeks, I’ll be 78 years old with the inherent infirmities of old
age. You know, having to find glasses
before you can read the simplest instructions and fretting unnecessarily over minor things.
At my stage in life, I should have nothing to do; yet every night when I go to
bed, I have things on my list that didn’t get done that day that I planned to
do. There are simply not enough hours in
the day.
What
do I have to get behind on?
When
you do nothing, you can’t get behind.
No
way.
