Adventures In Domestication

Until very recently I was living in the quaint little town of Lynden for many months. Its a very cute "Andy Griffin" type town. The kind of town that makes you feel like you're missing something when you're walking, er, sauntering down the sidewalk, er, dusty ole road to town... like a fishing pole for instance. Don't get me wrong, I really did love it there. But I found my mind being slowly overtaken by foreign thoughts and ideas... thoughts about which fork really needs to be put furthest out from the plate, worries about the weather's effect on Marge's prize tomatos, urges to learn how to churn butter and endless discussions on what flowers would make the perfect dinner centerpiece. All good and fine things... but not exactly "Amanda thoughts."

The real clincher was when I actually had a dream about "settling down with a strapping lad, claimin' some of this here land, havin a barn raisin', and gettin to work on having a dozen lil future girl & boyscouts of America" that's when I decided to load my pack on my fishin pole and head outa Mayberry for the big city of Bellingham.

Ok, in all fairness the dream might have been a little influenced by watching "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers" a few too many times growing up. Basically I think all the qualities of being a domestic goddess are fabulous... just not quite me. For I am a special breed of woman that is, in fact, undomesticatable.

I am not ashamed to admit that I vastly enjoy microwaving all my food, using just one fork for dinner (no 2nd fork or knife needed!), buying my butter from a large superstore, watching SpongeBob Squarepants because I want too (not for an anklebiters), shopping for assesories instead of making them and most of all, I really like living as a single independant, albeit somewhat idealistic and opinionated, woman who isn't ashamed that i've never scrapbooked a page in my life or compared childrens toothpaste ingredients. Thats just me, thats who I am today, and I'm lovin it.

Really, all this rambling has merely been what was suppose to be a brief intro to a poem I wrote last Christmas & wanted to share with you now. This poem was written after my very feebel attempt at knitting. I really did try, really I did. I carried those giant sticks in my purse for weeks, poking myself and others throughout... but the fact of the matter is that with my painfully slow knitting (not to mention constant back tracking) the holiday season was well over before I hade knitted barely a foot long scarf... so, until the next holiday season, my scarf (more appropriately my "pot holder") will remain at the back of my closet (in good company with other failed domestic projects), waiting for another chance to come out and try another attempt to domestic me. Until then, enjoy....


Undomesticatable

Knitting can be such a pain,
For someone just learning how
Loop & twist then loop again
My hands are cramping now

Its going to take forever
For this blasted scarf to be completed
I’m not sure it’s worth the price
Of getting my carpal tunnel treated

But a $25 dollar budget was set
For the gift exchange this year
Now I’m really hating this homemaker crap
I won’t be making this a career

Should’ve stuck to buying stuff at the mall
From the cheap items on the table
Cuz this attempt at knitting has just proven my point
That I’m Undomesticatable

~Amanda 12/07