Chores, the word evokes several different emotions in me spontaneously. First, I dread the physical exertion required to tidy the house. Especially, if I'm being beckoned from my cozy spot on the sofa or it's late at night. Who wouldn't rather be snuggled up in a fuzzy blanket reading than unloading the dishwasher? Still, despite the labor involved, completing the sometimes monotonous daily tasks that keep our home running smoothly leave me with a Mary Poppinish sense of efficiency. I am able to keep some semblance of order in this chaotic world when armed with Pledge and my Swiffer. It's quite a buzz. While I'm happy to provide a neat and tidy living space for my family, I often complain and grumble while doing so. On a recent trip to a children's museum in town, it hit me how easy I have it. I was busy explaining the daily routines of the early Appalachian settlers to my son when I tried on the water yoke and almost fell over from the weight of the simulated buckets. I imagined children carrying their family's daily water supply from wells each morning and realized that if I tried I would surely tumble down that hill faster than Jack or Jill.
When looking around the shop at all the household staples of years gone by, I silently pay homage to the hands that labored and toiled over items like this early ironing board. I am grateful for all the steam cleaners and high efficiency washers out there (although I don't possess either, they are on my wish list!), however I think it's important to remember those who passed before us hands chapped and calloused from their labors of love. Next time I bake cookies, I think I'll start from scratch!
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