On Being Domestic

I am not one for domesticity, really. My life has generally been lived writing, reading, thinking, not cleaning and planning how pretty something was going to look at a dinner party. I have never thought about curtains or throw pillows or things to go on the walls to liven up a room. Sure, sometimes I've dreamed and planned in my head and sometimes out loud, but when it came down to doing something in the house and being all girlie and writing a story or poem, the writing has always won out (and it still does).

Since losing my Mom and Dad I have felt a serious need for roots. My roots have always been with them and where I am from, never truly where I am. Hubby has been considerate and sometimes we have argued about my lack of domestic skills, except for the kitchen. I can cook and clean in the kitchen quite well, but that is also because I love to cook and the kitchen was always the heart of the home when I was growing up and it still feels the same to me. Now, I look around me, I look at my little house and all the books and papers on the shelves in the writing room and I do not find anything representing me - except for the books, of course. I do not have roots in this house or in this city and it has begun to make me sad.

Very rarely do I feel sad about anything domestic, and this sadness has compounded the loss of my parents SO much the need for roots; for being a good wife and housekeeper as well as a writer. Now I find myself planning what I am going to do with the couch and actually getting fabric swatches for it! Never before have I gotten fabric swatches.

I have even gone onto the Internet to look for plans on how to do what I want with the couch and, having found them I am eager to begin and make the couch look pretty. This has led me to plans for Christmas and what I want the tree to look like along with the house!

It has not been over-night, this odd change to domesticity, but it sure does feel like it. Now that things are actually being plotted and planned toward a reality I am looking forward to completing my project and beginning another: a couch cover and matching curtains for the living room.

Aghast? No, I am not aghast at myself, but pleased. Pleased at the thought of having roots and feeling like I have a home. Maybe I am finally beginning to nest. Isn't that what women are supposed to do? Nest? Maybe, after all these years, the nesting instinct is taking over in me.

Am I glad? I think I am.

Now, if hubby would only agree with what I want to do in the kitchen things would be near perfect!