You sometimes see a woman who would have made a Joan of Arc in another century and climate; threshing herself to pieces over all the mean worry of housekeeping.
It's a cold, rainy day, barely above freezing. I leave the horses in the barn on days such as this, so I have a little free time available for other much needed chores.
Like last evening's and this morning's dishes sitting on the counter.
And a pile of laundry waiting for folding.
Instead I'm doing this.
I have a point in here somewhere. Here it is......Mark opened a new business account this month, which I am a signature on. He brought the papers home for me to sign and low and behold, next to my name was 'Homemaker'. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with this job, I sometimes wish I had it. But I don't, I slave my $%&^@ off in the barn 7 day a week!
As the above photos show, if I did have this job, I should be fired. I am not good at it. I am good at stable management, breeding mares and foaling them out. I'm good at stallion management, pasture management and fixing fences. I clean a mean stall. But I totally fail at housework. Completely. Besides, household dust makes me wheeze, so I see no reason to disturb it.
When hapless Mark is asked why my job is homemaker, he goes into survival mode. He has no idea, the banker just put that in. I think Mark was asked if I work, and of course he said 'no'.
Mark doesn't understand that it isn't offensive to me, but rather I was curious how someone so completely awful at the job could be hired and retained for almost 30 years. I surely would have fired my worthless butt years ago if I knew I was responsible for the home. Now I have this creeping sense of unease, this idea that I should be doing more than sliding the dog hair along with my foot until I get a pile to pick up. Or periodically blowing dust off my computer.
I believe I will not think too deeply on this. I believe I am a barnkeeper and it's best to keep it that way. It's worked this long, why fix what neither of us has seen as broken.