Homeless homemaker?



When little i was, how hopeful i used to be
little and hopeful


So you are a homemaker? Living a particularly difficult day? I am too.

Feeling like everybody thinks there is a push button somewhere that does it all? Laundry folds itself? You just reset the chores cycle?

No time even for a nervous breakdown?

You ‘d like to be babyed a bit? want to cry it out? self-pity a while? No listening ears?

Homeless homemaker in your own home?

Hurting somewhere? Too tired?

Feeling sad ? Always cheering yourself up?

Shoving in mouthfuls to carry on? Continue reading Homeless homemaker?

Little boys are made of




Noise. Dirt. Big hearts. And silly jokes. Thank God  for the jokes or the noise and dirt would have driven me bonkers. As if not.

Now, Big Bear took his girl ( hey ! that ‘s me!!) out to buy some new lingerie and made her very happy. So happy that the next day she must have been unusually peppy. Two adorably curious little boys knew right away it was about mommy ‘s new pink possessions.

In the afternoons when the boys are starting to squabble more than I can bear,  I start to fold laundry on the bed ,they come and lie down till the toddler starts to get all sleepy and wants a nap. That afternoon, both of them had fine observations to make on my new favorite things. Continue reading Little boys are made of

What to do with plums.

perfect plums
perfect plums

Summer is here. And the season’s plums are here too!! Fruit delights me, stirs in me crisp memories of juicy bites. Rouses my senses and gently with its faint orchard perfume nudges me into activity. I LOVE FRUIT.

I found these splendid plums with a perfect white bloom ( how I wish I had the time to paint them, some years later maybe) on our local fruit seller’s cart. I jumped at them and by the time I had climbed up the three flights to our little home,  I knew where these treasures were going. Continue reading What to do with plums.


WP_20150527_003LEGO bricks and little fingers are everywhere in our home. Literally everywhere. On the bed, under chairs, underneath the fridge, inside the fridge, in the kitchen sink ,beneath the kitchen sink ,in the bath, in buckets,JUST NOT in their box. Little fingers stuff them in cushion covers, bury them in mud, if they could make the darn bricks fly they would. They keep popping like popcorn. Under my feet (owwwwww !) and in my sheets (Aaargh!). Little feet know how to run around them.It is a steeplechase all day long. Continue reading LEGO

One good thing.

WP_20150526_011What’s good about soaring temperatures and an official heat wave? So very hot and arid it makes your eyes hurt? Puts you in a whirl and then makes you slooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow you won’t reach the end of anything?

That I can line dry laundry. And when I get the clothes in, they are deliciously fluffy and smelling of sunshine. As daunting as an undone load of washables is and as trifling a folded pile of yummy clean clothes, it means to me.

Hey ! I get to do it everyday!!( Not that much fun). But a girl s got to make-believe sometimes.



                                                                      Peanut butter and Jam

                                                                       I heart thee.

                                                                       On dreary days

                                                                       with long afternoons

                                                                       my littles have loved you

                                                                        by spoonfuls

                                                                        On rushed mornings

                                                               when my hands turned wood

                                                                       you have made

                                                                       hurried lunches good

                                                                       You have served

                                                                       some dinner nights

                                                                        when blown off

                                                                        were my eye lights

                                                                       You have let me be lazy

                                                                        saved me from crazy

                                                                        A keeper you are

                                                                        when a bummer I am

                                                                         I heart thee

                                                                   Peanut butter and Jam.

Sunday afternoon. A play.



ARBOR : seven years.

AURELIUS: two years.

MOMMY: frantic as always.

DADDY: not home and badly missed by mommy.

STAGE: Concrete inferno outside. Inside is a swept floor sprinkled with Legos. Two little boys after their long breakfast and bath ritual are finally sitting down to build. Daddy is gone to work. Weekends aren’t weekends.Mommy is pleased with herself for having done much in the morning.And now is planning to sneak into the kitchen and gobble up some nourishment. Daddy has been texting her about this. So she must eat before she forgets.


One peaceful minute has passed. Continue reading Sunday afternoon. A play.