Friday Night

February 5, 2010

Remember as a kid when at 10 p.m. the announcement came over the television, “It’s ten o’clock…do you know where your children are?” I would be sitting in the living room all safe and snug about to watch a late movie after the news.  As a child, I didn’t really understand it’s meaning. I only knew that I was about to embark on the Chiller Theater or something of that sort. Afterwards, the station would play the National Anthem and close out for the night. I wonder if that’s why people didn’t always complain of  being so tired. That was something I very rarely heard growing up, yet life was not near as technological in conveniences. Just a thought.

Mama Wears Dresses…

February 4, 2010

and gowns. Not pants nor shorts. A handful of times she wore them to my rememberance, but so little that I can hold up both hands and have digits left over. In her younger years, pedal pushers were the thing. Later on, my aunt (baby sister) gave her a couple of pantsuits that were in vogue. Even my grandmother who was also a dresswearer boasted a few of them. Overall I grew up with feminine wear of the traditional type among those two relatives. It is a comfort for me. There is something traditional and satisfying in remembering how they did their daily living in those garments. My grandmother and  mother were always piddling about and even doing gardening or yard work they donned the dress. The pedal pushers and pantsuits were left for when they ventured outside the house. But my childhood eyes still see them in the staple of their wardrobes: dresses.  A constant in my mind and heart from them to me.

Any problem

February 3, 2010

in my life is mine to deal with. That doesn’t mean someone can not be a help to me (brainstorming, or simply listening). It means when all is said and done I make the decision on how to deal with the problem.

Workin’ Man…

February 2, 2010

My husband is working long, crazy hours. It’s good since we can use the money. He’s been on an 11.5 hour shift today in a cold plant and just called to say he’s on the way home. His routine will be shower, eat, rest with tv, then sleep a few hours and go right back to the grind. What is the point to all this? It makes one wonder. Especially since all the hours spent at the plant still do not make a dent in the way of bills. Sound familiar? This, my friends has become the new American way of life. But, at least supper and the love of his family is waiting.

The name of this blog reflects how  I spend my evenings.  Dishwashing is almost a lost art among women thanks to automatic dishwashers and throw away products. Personally, I’ve found solace in a sinkful of soapy water. It gives me time to reflect on the earlier day’s activities, bringing into balance the oncoming night. During the day the double sided sink is the catch all for the nutrition gamut of the household. At the end of the day it becomes the resting place for the final cleansing of both dish and soul. The water and suds piling up. Dirty dishes, cups, glassware, utensils, and pots each taking their turn in the hot  gray water, giving up the caked on, drunk from, smeared on cares of  daily life. Clean again, waiting to take on the next fulfillment of their purpose.

Sometimes I wonder if they dread seeing the cupboard open. With hands reaching toward them, knowing  that they are about to be *used*. But then…that is their purpose. And when they once again set patiently waiting, they no doubt, have a sense of having done their duty. I wish I could always say the same.