I’ve done a little less blogging and a little more reading lately. Right now, I’m reading Sacajawea by Ann Lee Waldo. Here’s an excerpt, which I found to be comical, but true. The context is that Sacajawea and Otter Woman, the wives of Charboneau, a sniveling, cowardly Frenchman, have come to live among the white Americans in St. Louis:
That night, Otter Woman tossed on her pallet of pine branches thinking of other things she had noticed. White women could not make peace inside their lodges. Day after day they fought dust and dirt. They made war on everything – clothes, pots, floors; fighting with lye soap, scouring ashes, straw brooms, and feather dusters. Otter Woman felt sorry for these white squaws who did not realize that dust and dirt were just a part of life to be endured like a bad cold, hunger, or mosquitoes.
This passage caused me to look at housekeeping a little differently. Is that what we do? Make war?
It’s good to wave the dirty white flag of surrender every now and then, to let the dog hair collect, like little tumbleweeds in the desert with purple mountains on the distant horizon – mountains of laundry. Read a book. Be at peace. (For a while, anyway.)