Monday, January 12, 2009

Romantic Notions

(I took this picture on my walk this morning. It was interesting to carry a camera--I usually don't--I found myself really looking at what I was seeing, if you know what I mean.)

I'm working on a new sweater from the Fall 2006 Interweave Knits. At the bottom of the pattern is a little bio note for the designer which informs me that she "lives in western Massachusetts with her husband and daughter on a farm full of sheep, pigs, chickens, cats and dogs."

That description is like catnip to me. Lives on a farm? in western Mass.? With her husband and her daughter and pigs and chickens and cats and dogs? Could anything be more perfect?

Now, instead of enjoying the thought of this woman living her life on her farm, I start getting anxious about it. Shouldn't that be my life? Why don't I live on a farm designing knitware and baking bread all day with my little daughter in her adorable overalls while the chickens cluck outside the kitchen window and the light streams through the curtains and dances across the floor. Shouldn't I be living this life? Isn't this the perfect, problem-free life that I so richly deserve?

Forget the fact that I'm almost forty-five and know that no such life exists. Forget the fact that I'm fully aware that this woman has a laundry list of problems as long as mine, maybe even longer.

Forget the fact that I've actually lived in western Massachusetts, and while it is beautiful and scenic and all that, it snows from October through May. I hate snow. I went through month-long funks living in western Massachusetts because the snow wouldn't go away.

Forget the fact I've actually stayed on a farm in western Massachusetts. A scenic farm with cows and pigs. And lots of cow and pig manure. It smelled to high heaven. You couldn't get away from the smell. I did not smell that smell and have deep, meaningful thoughts about nature's ever-spinning cycles. My thoughts about those smells were irritated and surly and not at all friendly.

Forget all of that. It is January and I am human and I will romanticize this woman's life if I want to.

But to balance it out, I'll try to imagine how, if she read my short little bio, she might start romanticizing mine.


Victoria said...

I would be living that romantic life on the farm but I'm scared that a stalker would murder me while my husband was away. Hence, we have to live in town.... But we all can dream, right.
P.s. am enjoying the new photographic element to your blog, adds to the romantic picture I get of your life...........

Left-Handed Housewife said...

Yeah, that's the problem with living on a farm--you might have to shoot somebody. Keeps me in the suburbs.

p.s. I am romanticizing how you spend your whole day making art and doing little else ... it must be so nice.

Anonymous said...

Great post, you always make me smile! (I'm back in blogsville with my tail between my legs) Hmmmm, I might use that for my next post title! :)

rose_red said...

I've been meaning to thank you for the lovely comments you left on my blog. It really helps to know that I'm not the only one for whom my twenties aren't an unabated ten years of fun and excitement.

I loved this post because I know exactly what you mean about peeking in to other peoples' lives. I find this especially true while reading blogs I love. It gives me a feeling, not really of jealousy, but of wistfulness that my own life seems so unromantic and unproductive compared to others. But really, I want to live my own know, only better!

monica said...

like they say... the grass is always greener on the other side...

BUT it doesn't hurt to dream a little, right?

Left-Handed Housewife said...

Tina, I'm so happy you're back! I missed you for the short time you were gone.

Rose, two things no one ever tells you: our twenties are a terrible time, and three-year-olds are much worse than two-year-olds. Why these things are kept secret, I have no idea.

Monica, I agree--dreaming is good!

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