T'was ever thus

There was a great line in a pretty good movie, 'Secretariat', we watched the other day. Canadian Ron Turcotte was the horse's jockey throughout his unmatchable career and during one pre-race ball, while surrounded by gorgeous women, Ronnie laughed and said, "I get taller when I'm standing on my wallet!" Yes he did.


B came out with another good line the other day: "You're only as smart as your ego allows you to be." Pretty profound, when you think about it. He's reading a book entitled 'Care of the Soul' and there is excellent stuff in there. Like when the author talks about homemaking being good for the soul. I completely agree. Doesn't matter what is going on in the rest of my life, cooking for loved ones always fixes me up in a hurry. So does a spanking, clean kitchen, ironing, cleaning the bathroom and a lot of other mundane and unheralded chores. These tasks make me feel centred and take me back to my own upbringing, where breakfast, lunch and dinner were the talismans of everyday life.

Until several years ago, I never would have thought I would be making aprons and loaves of sandwiches for a church bazaar. Now I love the labour. Nothing -- and I mean nothing -- interfered with my mother's self discipline in running her home. It was comforting to know that if I walked in unannounced at a meal time, a meal would be appearing. It would not be eclipsed by how she "felt" that day, or what wrinkle had dislodged her plans, or even if she were sick. How simple, how solid.

Today feelings rule the world. I understand we all have them, but who cares?! Are mine more important than yours? Certainly not. Yes, one has to be privately in touch with them, but public feelings get in the way of a lot of things.......things we need to accomplish for good order and the stable running of our lives and communities. As I look back, I never saw my mother cry, save thrice: once when my brother "trimmed" her magnificent cedar hedge two feet too short, the second time when my brother tragically died and the final time when my father died. The rest of her life she did her duty, remained constant and was unfailingly pleasant. How I wish considerably more of her gifts had rubbed off on me.