The Tao of the Frau

Welcome to my blog. For the record, it’s not totally new. I’ve had the blank, titled blog for at least a year. Truth is, it might still be blank if my eighteen year old daughter Sara hadn’t shamed me into actually writing something to post in it. She did this by: 1) starting her own food blog and 2) asking me when I signed up for twitter if I was just ‘reserving the name’ again or if I was actually planning to use it. Brat.

My intention for the blog was initially to find a way to disseminate some of the useful information I’d gleaned over the years as a busy, broke, & frugal single parent. Since I recognize my ADD tendencies I knew without a doubt that I would be unable to keep things in any one category. Hence, the Random.

Now the Hausfrau. Let me first say that I use the title of Hausfrau with a great deal of affection. At a very early age, perhaps in the farm kitchen of my Cajun maman’s house, I began to love all things about the kitchen. My favorite parts of childhood books were the descriptive passages of mealtimes. I could smell Ma Ingall’s ‘corncakes’; I swear I could. I learned to cook pretty early in life and I’ve always enjoyed the process. After a weekend of campfire cooking in high school, I earned the nickname “Ma Joad” as in the family matriarch from “The Grapes of Wrath.” I took this as a supreme compliment because to me it meant I was skillful in a pretty meaningful way; I could feed a lot of people, very well and very cheaply, with minimal tools and resources. Even then at seventeen, I thought that rocked.

I also devoured any book about homekeeping published during what I call the ‘golden age of the American housewife.’ These snapshots of American home culture from another age were fascinating to me. And although I am now a professional working woman juggling parenting and life-maintenance chores with a supportive spouse, I still find myself longing for an existence that is focused on cooking a nice dinner, keeping clean underwear at the ready at all times, and not killing the houseplants. I also long for an existence where I have trouble fitting in my afternoon scuba dive between my morning massage and my all-inclusive, pre-dinner margaritas. The latter is why I work. I could say that it’s all about presenting a positive role model for my daughters, that education and hard work payoff in security and self-worth, blah, blah, blah and it would certainly be true to some degree. But I can’t say it’s the main reason.

Before you go thinking I am some sort of home management whiz with a well kept house and garden, I should let you know that I most certainly am not. And I don’t beat myself up for it. I enjoy time with the family, pursuing hobbies (mostly music), and sometimes (often) just being lazy. The Random Hausfrau has many alter egos. I am a great cook; I also burn stuff a lot. I love to plan & plant a garden; I am lousy at maintaining one. I hate it when the towels are folded ‘wrong’; I won’t say how long it’s been since I’ve mopped. I am certainly nothing to aspire to.

But my aspirations for myself are simple and probably seem quaint to some. Square, even. Perhaps an affront to feminists everywhere. I want to enjoy time spent at home making everyday life nicer for myself and those around me. Yes, I want to give of my time and money to make a difference in my community. I want to read books, keep apprised of current events, and be able to have intellectually stimulating conversations. But if I can share a meal and relax at home with my family at the end of the day, I can call it a good one.

If not there’s always tomorrow.