I don’t think I would endear myself to any strong, independent women these days. Not that I’m not strong or independent. But get this. I enjoy homemaking. Gasp! I know, I know. It isn’t cool to enjoy homemaking. I should be setting the world on fire, right? Well, what if I just don’t want to? What if I want to make my home a warm and cozy place, and get enjoyment out of it? Is that so wrong?
There’s just something about looking around your nest with a smile. The house is clean and orderly. A pot of soup is simmering on the stove. The dryer is quietly spinning. The radio is playing in the background. There are homemade muffins sitting on the counter. There are books on the nightstands, and plants in pots, colorful rugs on the floor, and a bowl of fruit on the counter. Why shouldn’t we simply enjoy this state of domesticity?
Now I’m not saying that I am a boring Stepford wife like Donna Reed. I most certainly do not do my housework in a cotton dress and pearls. I wouldn’t think of getting up early to make breakfast for a man who is perfectly capable of making his own breakfast. It just makes me happy to have my home life in order. It pleases me to have homemade food, and a garden growing, and all the other touches that makes this place feel like home.
And trust me, I’m not boring. I have a wicked sense of humor. I am college educated, and an avid reader. We love to travel. I love gardening, photography, writing, and various types of crafts. I sing in several different choirs, and have a wide assortment of friends. Okay, I admit it. I do fit one stereotype of the housewife. I do love shopping. So sue me.
Call me a lady of leisure if you will, but it doesn’t hurt my feelings one bit, even if leisure is the last thing on my mind. I simply get to call my day my own. Bet anyone else would love to do the same.