The Time of Blooming
The Time of Blooming
It is ineffably cozy to inhale the fragrance of baking bread, crocheting with hands made sweet and supple by kneading and shaping loaves. I am using yarn of the loveliest hue of green, the color of new and growing things. It is a delight to watch it pass through my fingers—at one end a homely ball, at the other an expanding network of stitches to swaddle the little child of a dear friend. I crochet, and God knits him together in his mother’s blossoming womb. I praise Him. Psalm 139:13-14.
While I keep my hands thus happily occupied, I beguile the quiet hour with Peter Kreeft’s lecture on the Language of Beauty. It reminds me of that quote of Tasha Tudor’s which I like so well:
‘When you’re stirring jam you can read Shakespeare.’
Too many people associate domesticity with dullness of life and intellect. A homekeeper is supposed to be an asinine drudge who wastes her energy and brain on littleness. Is the home and family little? Is beauty little?—is music little, or thinking or learning or teaching or creating or nurturing? Are people little, or good books or colors or love? Is God little? It seems to me that the home is a full and vibrant place if you are. It is only a corner of the world, but it reaches high.
As in all occupations, there will be ‘tedious’ tasks, but rather than being ‘mindless’ they free us to be mindful. As Mrs. Woods, the Thinking Housewife, asks, “Should Smart Women Sweep?”—‘Sweeping has the reputation of being boring and mindless, but I can’t say that it is. I rarely think about the floors. I look at them, technically speaking. But, I am elsewhere. I think of other things. “Laborare est orare,” said Benedict. To work is to pray. To work manually is also to think. There is some mysterious harmony between the hands and the thoughts, between a mere broom and the highest flights of the imagination.’
You can memorize Scripture or sing Psalms as you wash dishes. You can pray as you knead bread. You can listen to Bach as you wield your iron. You can discuss great literature with your family as you chop vegetables. You can listen to philosophic lectures as you employ the needle. You can ponder life’s great mysteries as you sweep the floors. You can read The Merchant of Venice as you stir a bubbling pot of strawberry jam. Why not? The home-garden blooms with possibilities that await your cultivation.
I ply my needle. Meanwhile, I weave visions and plans for the future—
‘cross the golden warp with the woof-thread of a rosy daydream.’
As I crochet, I listen to the murmur and paper-sorting of Mama and Littlest Sister as they plan for this school year. I will not be joining them this time. I officially begin my herbal medicine studies, Lord-willing, this October. I am very excited about enrolling with the Naturally Healthy Family Institute, and taking Shonda Parker’s Community Herbalist course. I think my family is weary of my intermittent exclamations: “I am so excited!” I am still looking for and praying for an accredited direct-entry midwifery program that will allow me to stay at home; but, meanwhile, a course on nutrition and herbal medicine will provide me with an excellent foundation for helping women and their families keep healthy.
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ELISSA said...
Ah, you have such refreshing posts! You always remind me to take joy in the little tasks around the house! This is an especially lovely post!! I love that quote by Tasha Tudor. I don’t believe I have ever heard it before, but it is oh so true!
My most beautiful thoughts and imaginings are often done while washing dishes, sweeping the floor, or dusting a dusty room... —Elissa
Sunday, September 6, 2009 10:22 PM
HANDMAIDEN said...
As Agatha Christie (our favorite mystery author here) declared, “The best time for planning a book is when you’re doing the dishes.” Very true!
The quote of Tasha Tudor comes from her book The Private World of Tasha Tudor with photographer Richard Brown. Here it is in context—
“I enjoy doing housework, ironing, washing, cooking, dishwashing. Whenever I get one of those questionnaires and they ask what is your profession, I always put down housewife. It’s an admirable profession, why apologize for it. You aren’t stupid because you’re a housewife. When you’re stirring jam you can read Shakespeare.”
Monday, September 7, 2009 01:37 PM
ELISSA said...
I was preparing apple scones for our breakfast this morning, and I thought of this post—for, while my hands were engaged in cutting butter into the flour mixture, I was studying chemical formulas in my science textbook. It made me smile to recall Tasha Tudor’s lovely quote.
Thursday, September 17, 2009 07:10 PM
HANDMAIDEN said...
Be careful not to splash the pages! Many of my books bear the marks of multitasking. I open up my copy of A Connecticut Yankee... to remember that I made rosemary sauce the last time I was reading about Hank Morgan’s exploits. :-)
Baking is itself a fascinating chemical endeavor of the most practical nature! It’s certainly worth knowing more about. I am eagerly awaiting my latest library book request: How Baking Works: The Fundamentals of Baking Science by Paula Figone. Hmm... I like the idea of the home-cook as an empirical scientist. :-)
Sunday, September 20, 2009 06:49 PM
Friday, August 28, 2009