Housewifely Pursuits
A while back, I wrote a long post about my post-marriage trauma over the housewifely arts. And then Blogger ate that post. But, in a nutshell, it was about how I was trying to get back into cooking, because I used to enjoy cooking long ago, when I was a housewife, before I came to associate cooking with marital discord.
So, six years post-marriage, I recently tried cooking again. And I realized that I sincerely no longer like it. Not because of any trauma/drama, but because I just don’t, anymore. I come home after a long day of corporate activities, and the last thing I want to do is cook.
My boyfriend, on the other hand, really likes to cook, and he’s very good at it. So I let him cook, and he makes enough for leftovers on the nights when he’s not with us. Or else we microwave things. Or else I order us pizza, or else, worst case scenario, cook something really, really fast. And it’s okay. We’re all still alive and growing at a normal rate.
I didn’t tell y’all this, but a few months back, I also revisited my old sewing hobby – partially inspired by Project Runway, I admit. And then I remembered why I stopped sewing. Poor fabric selection in our town, and I’m too lazy to make buttonholes. Okay. Sewing checked off the list, then.
I started beading again, and I do still like that. I wish I had time to see if I still like to crochet, but I don’t. That’s just too much. Plus, I don’t ever decorate with doilies anymore.
However. This year, I really, really, really want to garden again, for the first time since I got divorced six years ago. Now that I have my own house, I mean.
I ventured on a mini foray last spring, with my first apartment balcony garden. I kept in gardening-shape throughout the year by growing and/or killing several houseplants. I haven’t yet had time to re-landscape my new front yard, and yet I think I want a vegetable garden in the spring.
I can’t help it. It’s calling to me. I look at You Grow Girl and it makes me miss my old gardens. Yes, gardens. If there’s one thing I miss about my old life, it’s the gardens I used to have.
My plan is to get through Christmas and into January. Then I’ll have some guys come over and trim the trees in my front yard, and replace some of the old, overgrown boxwoods with sexy dwarf nandinas. At the same time, I think I’ll ask them to dig up the bur-filled grass on the unseen leg of the L that is my back yard. Then, that’ll give me the rest of the winter to put a pebble path between what will eventually be my flower beds. At night, I’ll salivate over seed catalogs and place my orders. Then, hopefully, in March, I’ll be ready to roll.
The best part of vegetable gardening, this year, will be that my boyfriend likes to cook. We’ve already previewed the seed catalogs a bit, and it’s gratifying to point out pretty vegetables and hear him get excited about what he could cook with them.
He likes to cook, and I like to grow things, and that should be a winning combination. If he gets tired of cooking, I can always share the harvest with my friends and coworkers.
I’m getting excited thinking about it but, at the same time, I’m not going to pressure myself. It might turn out that I don’t like gardening anymore, after all. And if I don’t, then that’s okay.
I’ve been really obnoxious lately, constantly telling friends and coworkers how happy I am not to be married anymore. It’s not that I think marriage hinders hobbies as a general rule. It’s just nice for me, personally, to be able to try new things, or give up old things, or do whatever the hell I want, without having to check with someone else. Or listen to someone else’s critiques of my actions. And, yes, I know that it most likely wasn’t marriage that created those issues – it was just my marriage.
But, like I said, I don’t have to worry about that any more, ever again. I just wanted to say that I love having my own house, just like y’all told me I would. I might have a garden this spring. Life is good, and I’m thankful.
