Ok, so I have a confession to make…I like to do housework. I really do. I like to take a room and make it shine. My accessories are rags and cleaners, gloves and vacuums. They help me pull off my “look”.
None off this is because I’m some terrific neat freak, although the kids will beg to differ, but because of what I am cleaning. I’m doing more than polishing up our surroundings. I’m even doing more than nurturing our home…I’m nurturing me.
I supply me with satisfaction. I pay homage to my life and all that it has given me. Each item I am surrounded with embodies memories. I have around me the mile stones of life, the symbols of hope, and the imprints of love.
I have the history of our lives on the walls of our home. And what doesn’t fit on the wall will find a home on a table top. I enjoy the daily connection with several generations, motivating me with the remembrance of their stories. I have the fun of comparing our kids when they were little to the cherubic smiles of our grandchildren. A smile crosses my own lips, much like the Mona Lisa’s smile, as the thought whispers in my head speaking to our children, “Ha! Now it’s your turn.”
And oh, the books! What books we have…..there lays the sketch work of what it is that interests us, our studies and our entertainment, our scriptures and our roots. Many of the books come from trips we have taken, histories, biographies, and of course in our house the art and architecture of the world.
These things add dimension to me. They put flesh on my structure. They are part of who I have become and who I am living with, how I am spending my life. So to revel in it a bit each day is kind of fun and like I said before it gives me satisfaction. Now where was it I left my cloth and cleaner? Oh yeah, I think it was by the pictures of our grandkids, the little cuties, they’re just like their parents…serves them right. ~A Womens Place~
Merrywives' Blog 
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