These Are the Trials of a Housewife.

I am currently confined indoors. I had to close my windows, and I think there is a tornado going by. So for now I will blog about being a housewife, in hopes that it will soon clear; I want to go to the farmers market.

While adjusting the ice in a peach smoothie, my spatula shattered. Plastic peppered the fruity goodness, and we had to spit out the bigger chunks. There was spatula delight in every sip. This adventure ended with my husband attempting to glue the pieces back together.

While lighting a candle to burn the onion fumes, I set it on our coffee pot and walk away. A while later wax had melted down and into every crevice of this coffee maker. It was temporarily unfunctional, until this morning, when I decided to bake it in the oven. This fresh baked coffee maker now makes coffee again, but the joe tastes like parafin.

In a head to head encounter with homemade pastry dough, I lost a battle. I was having friends for breakfast at 10 am sharp. When they got to the door, my hair nor my clothes were ready to be seen by the public, not even dear friends. Flour covered every inch of counter space, and the floor as well. That was a mess.

In a recent attempt to surprise my husband, I painted the bathroom a beautiful shade of charcoal. Our ceilings are an upwards of 14 feet high; they are unreachable. So I planted the ladder in the shower and held onto the curtain rod to keep my balance. Well, the rod is not as strong as I first thought, and let me just say that it is only by the grace of God that I am still alive to tell this story.

This tornado may have just turned into a hurricane. It looks like its going to be a long morning. Its time to pull out the french press, hem trousers, and read Little Women. Although childish in nature, this sweet novel teaches about the joys of mundane tasks.