I had so wanted to copy the sweet domestic homeschool-homekeeping blogs I admire when I started this one. Thus our subtitle, “domestic adventures and homeschool miracles” — I had to relate the theme to the title somehow, though Red Sea School is really a name selected somewhat randomly by Violet shortly after she turned 6, to describe the school she was going to run for the neighborhood children. She had just read the story of the Red Sea in a Bible storybook for children, so I assume that was her motivation. And then it stuck, as things we don’t think through often do.
“Domestic adventure” describes our home life kind of the way “America’s Moving Adventure” describes moving across country with a U-haul. As I once said to my dad, how many people must look at that slogan during their move and mutter it bitterly?
I am not a tidy person — my mom has told me that I will need to plan for household help because I will just not do it myself. Which is true — I fill up my life with too much stuff, and though I continue to manage time better, as I approach 40 all evidence is that however I re-prioritize, tidying and decluttering are going to stay near the bottom of the list.
As my therapist neatly summed it up: I tend to excel at things that are invisible to most people, and my weaknesses tend to be very visible. I can cook — I just can’t get the dining room table cleared off enough to have anyone over. I am a bright person, if I do say so myself, but my work is for a narrow audience, and I myself am mostly anonymous in the process. I get rather few questions about the German Enlightenment in my social life, many more opportunities to apologize for the state of the living room.
Just yesterday I decluttered my Google reader of several blogs that are quite nice, very upbeat, and — for me — slightly demoralizing. I need to focus more on being the best me — forgive the Oprah-ism. To analogize: more Rhoda, less Mary; more Breakfast Club Ally Sheedy, less Breakfast Club Molly Ringwald; more Laverne, less Shirley; more Rizzo, less Sandy. More Derfwad, less . . . of that other stuff.
Still, and unsurprisingly, my domestic and crafty moments give me lots of little thrills, so I can’t let go of them entirely. So I persist, from time to time, in indulging my would-be crafty-person homemaker side. Like now.
Here’s my sock, from the Ann Budd simple sock book, the chevron lace pattern. At the suggestion of my LYS (oh, you know, that means Local Yarn Store if you are hip to the new knitter vocab) I’m doing heels and toes in a complementary color to be sure that I have enough yarn. “Complementary” here means something like “lively fun contrast” — I didn’t want to make my first pair of adult socks — and perhaps only the 2nd thing I’ve knit for myself, since the purse — too serious.