Confessions of a Reluctant Domestic Goddess

The holidays are over. Done. Finito. Terminated, often with uncomfortable family prejudices! (Actually, our families have been pretty amazing. I heard some stories, but several involved eggnog.)
It has been, to say the least, a rough year.
However, I know that 2015 is going to be different. 2015 will be chock-full to the cockles with change of the most fecund variety. 2015 will be wealthier, healthier, and less fruitless by scads than the previous dire year. How, you may ask, do I know this? Have I been gifted of visions by the god Apollo? Have I been to the future itself?
I’ll tell you how I know that 2015 will be better: my ridiculously generous family has given me a bread machine.
This is integral to my happiness and quality of life for the following reasons:

  1. The apartment is too cold for yeast to thrive. Like, anywhere. Unless it’s summer and 90 degrees in the shade, those little buggers are freezing to death long before they fart out enough gassy goodness to make the dough rise.
  2. Bread is idiotically expensive in Boston. We’re talking $2 for a loaf of whole wheat. That’s shenanigans. I call it so, not only because it’s silly, but because darn it I don’t have that kind of bread for bread. Even with the energy the bread machine uses, it’s less than half the cost to make a loaf than to straight-up buy one.
  3. I dream a dream of a solar-powered house where my woman and myself will dwell unhindered by the guilt born of Earth-killing carbon fuels burning through the night to keep our showers hot and our toothbrushes electrified. In this dream, there exists a small but cozy corner where bread is made…with the power of the SUN!

These are all reasonable reasons to want a bread machine, I reason. It has nothing to do with my penchant for making the kitchen smell all nice. It’s just a useful thing to do. Everyone should make bread. It’s like knitting. Do you know who needs to know how to knit? EVERYBODY, that’s who! Seriously: it’s stress-relief in a sweater. Who wouldn’t want that? Who doesn’t *need* that?? Who doesn’t CRAVE that? Productive stuff can also be nice and relaxing, you know! It’s science! I read it in a book! You might be asking if it was a book of cross-stitch patterns, but you’d be wrong! Embroidery is WAY more complicated than just cross-stitch and there are some truly substantive books on the subject! Have I read them? Yes. Have I enjoyed them? May I remind you that these books are substantive? I love substantive shit. Give me some Hemingway! I will read it until it is thoroughly read! And I will have you know that, in the pursuit of making things freaking pretty as hell, my French knots are so regular and even that Theresa of Avila herself weeps tears of holy joy when she sees me working with a needle and thread!

Because, dammit, mason jars are awesome. And I like to fill them with dried apricots and tie little ribbony bows on them and give them to people who wish to God I were just another slob with barely the presence of mind  to restock the M&Ms. I mean, I haven’t restocked the M&Ms. But I do have a large selection of semi-sweet chocolate for coating candied fruits. Think about it: candied chocolate apples. Better for you than a Snicker’s bar, right? Right?

Oh come on! A woman can enjoy Pinterest without becoming a stereotype! Just because I own an entire table full of crafting supplies does not make me a caricature of homely wholesomeness. I mean, I own a hand-crank drill! Oh God – that’s not helping. How about my vast collection of herbal teas in their handmade box? OK, I just re-read that. Forget it. Cross it off. What about my…collection of ties! Yes! My tie! They’re arranged by color, shape, texture, and…and…shit.

You will call me a domestic goddess. This will happen. I’m…not really at terms with it yet. I’m still a mighty adventurer with a wild streak. (Look at me swear! I swear like crazy! That’s wild for you!) And I’m no less a capable career woman. There’s nothing about scented candles that displaces an aggressive negotiating style. But ever since babyhood, I’ve been handed two separate, mutually exclusive bills of goods: one that includes kitchenry and prettyness, and one that includes board rooms and suit jackets. I say that I want both. Both, I say! I am not content to explore a mere half of my potential as though I were an avatar in a particularly stupid video game! I will negotiate. I will wear a suit jacket! And by my home-cooked cat food and pretty woodburned picture frames, we’re going to have some damn delicious bread in 2015!

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