I remember this idea when I was little: Women who stay home all day do nothing but sit around, watch soap operas, and eat bon bons. Remember this notion? Heck, maybe people still think this and I just don't know it.
Today, before 10:00 am, this "stay-at-home-do-nothing" was feeling a little resentful that people ever thought this. By 10:00 am, I had mowed with a small mower the equivalent of two small lawns, watered 20 fruit trees, moved a chicken tractor and fence by myself, scratched up two days worth of cow patties (tell you later!), milked a cow, eaten breakfast, started a load of laundry, moved 50 gallons of water, and found canning recipes for pickles and calendula salve. I was feeling some righteous indignation that anyone ever thought women working at home were doing nothing.
Then, I thought of a few friends who really do have very little real to do and yet, they also feel they barely have a minute to call their own. I thought of how nice it was to be outside for the best part of the day and how my shelves would look at the end of the day when we finished putting up pickles. I looked at my contented animals, and I decided to let my grudge slip away from me. I thought of the way many "homemakers" don't actually make anything- they buy. And I felt kind of sad. I saw my own path stretched out behind me where I have tried to become less of a consumer and more of a producer. It was very curvy, and I did not exactly know I getting to this place.
So how I can look at the point another person is at and pass any judgment? Who knows how our paths will curve? Not me.
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