Susie Homewrecker

Okay, confession time. I think I bit off a little more than I can chew with this whole "Susie Homemaker" thing. Maybe it would have been prudent to start with a list of, oh, say...one thing. Like "get out of bed every morning" or "put on clean underwear daily, assuming any has been washed".

But, no, I had to get all idealistic with my dreams of 50s housewifery. I am here to tell you, I am just not that kind of girl! What kind of girl am I, you ask? I think lazy is much too strong a word. I prefer relaxed or easygoing or even lackadaisical. I have perfected the art of rest-- an ideal that so many Americans have abandoned like a naughty stepchild. But, you see, I will never die an early death from a stress-related illness. You won't ever find me lying on some psychotherapist's couch recounting my inability to slow down. I am a master of slow. That is, until I get up some motivation to actually tackle something....

Hey, that gives me an idea! What I need is a good swift kick in the patooshky! And you know what that means? That's right; guests. I need to invite guests over. Guests I don't know well enough to decide that my house looks fine as-is. Guests who, preferably, have never been to my house before at all and might (gasp!!) want to look around!

But first, let me try and undo some of the damage I've just done to myself in the above paragraphs. You need to know that I've made strides in several housewifey areas-- one being cooking. Just look at that stack of cookbooks! I've been making good use of them, too. Why, just the other day dinner consisted of a homemade baked macaroni and cheese (made with whole wheat pasta, no less!), fresh green beans from our garden, and roasted cherry tomatoes (taken from T's garden) which were sprinkled with coarse salt, olive oil and some of the oregano I recently dehydrated. And we washed it all down with lightly sweetened homemade lemonade. If that's not a Susie Homemaker-worthy meal, I don't know what is.

And, I'd like to add that my bed has been faithfully made, dishes have been religiously washed, and my laundry-- a beast I have tamed. Actually, come to think of it, my only real area of failure is the room cleaning part of the deal. Other than the bathroom I cleaned last week, my hands haven't held a cleaning rag or donned the vacuum at all. I HATE cleaning!

And that is where the guests come in. I can see no other way. I must invite someone over.

But who?? Well, my friends, that is a question best left answered on another day. Until then!