Musings Of A Homemaker (2)

 The Rules of the Game 

1963

Is it really this weather that makes us disagreeable, or are we just naturally hard to please?

A few short weeks ago, we were pining for summer days. Summer days arrived and we began to long for cooler fall weather.

 The nature of humans is to search for lost opportunities and unfulfilled dreams.

 At the age of ten, we wish for things we don’t possess.  It would be nice of my name was Susie instead of Mary.

 How wonderful it must be to have beautiful red hair instead of brown.

 Then we reach high school.  In high school we yearn for a steady date and find to our amazement that the steady daters have visions of playing the field and dating around.

 If our choice is not to attend college, we soon nurture envious thoughts of those who went on to higher education.  

The bride who marries young often wishes she had waited a bit and is surprised to learn that the woman who works outside the home often feels she has wasted those precious years when she could have stayed home and raised a family.  

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We seem to be over-flowing with discontent from childhood to adulthood.

 Keeping up with the Jones family is a desireable way of life for many.  The wish to have as much or more as the folks next door may never go away.

 When your neighbor belabors the fact that the days are much too long and the weather is much too hot, your neighbor is following the rules of the game.

 The game is called “Making Conversation”.

 The objective is to see how much better we can make our everyday living with good-natured complaining and a few constructive thoughts.  What can we do to make our lives more blessed than they are already.

 Maybe we should change The Rules Of The Game.  Let’s talk about it!

2018

I’m seeing myself in these words.  This was at a time when I had three little boys ages one, four, and six. Maybe I just wanted to be different.  It could be that I thought I’d missed  out on the opportunities that had once been before me and now had seemingly disappeared.  I married at twenty and had my first child at twenty-one. Now, waiting for a home and family is often begun at an older time in life. There was never a career pursuit for me. In those years, I was faced with laundry, dishes, meals and cleaning.  The house we lived in, although we loved it dearly, was much less sophisticated than the homes of our friends and neighbors.  Of course, I knew the future was out there, somewhere.  At that time, though, I couldn’t see it.  My Christian walk had not yet begun.  Or maybe it had and I just hadn’t recognized it.  Time would tell.

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copyright©2018

Photographs by Mary Anne Whitchurch Tuck

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