Trying to become a woman who knows

I don’t take kindly to housework. There are aspects of it, such as dusting and scrubbing toilets (do not get me started on ironing), that I feel are beneath me. I find it frustrating to spend time and energy on chores that so quickly and easily become undone.

Simply put, there are other things I’d rather be doing.

A good friend of mine cross-stitched and framed the following especially for me:

A clean house is the sign of a wasted life.

But to be honest, I don’t really believe that.

Yesterday I labored early to scrub my stove, catch up on the dirty dishes and mop the kitchen floor. I was supposed to bake pies as well, but family from out of town dropped in and I dropped everything to visit with them. Then my husband and I took our nephew to watch the BYU-UTAH game (it was one of the best football games I’ve ever witnessed, thanks for asking). It was a cold night, the game went into overtime and then there was much rejoicing, so we didn’t arrive back home until late. I was chilled to the bone and dog-tired. But I’d invited family and friends over for today’s annual Thanksgiving dinner round two (it’s all about the leftovers) and I knew I would hate myself today if I didn’t get the pies done last night.

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