As I fiddle around in the kitchen, getting breakfast ready, Ed calls out from the couch -- I'm reading this article about why women tend not to be entrepreneurial...
Are you suggesting I look at it?
Ed has always laughed at my lack of entrepreneurial spirit. He cannot understand why I don't want to make money off of Ocean, or why I drag my heels with putting out a book, indeed many books, or why I don't buy into the idea that building something for profit can be fun.
Even though it's a little cool outside, we linger over the morning meal, turning our thoughts to the day ahead. Ed wants to finish clearing the felled tree and, too, he wants to see what damage I did to the tractor-mower. Me -- well, it's time to do a major farmhouse cleaning.
Let me know when you're ready to vacuum - he tells me. And then: Oh, someone's coming by to pick up those motorcycle manuals I put up on Craigslist.
I have two thoughts on this. First, in the matter of vacuuming: though I take responsibility for keeping the house clean (believe me, you would not want to hand over that responsibility to Ed), I have occasionally relinquished the vacuuming to him. Sure, it's not as good as if I did it. So what. It's 30 minutes in my pocket.
My second thought is about those ancient and moldy manuals. Why anyone would want them is beyond me, but Ed was confident that they would sell and months later there is indeed an interested buyer. Ed's success rate in selling stuff on Craigslist hovers at 95% while mine comes in at a dismal below 50%. How does he do it?
As I scrub every corner of the house, Ed pauses in his outdoor work to greet the buyer -- an older guy who has driven here all the way from the Dells (just under two hours) to get the ancient manuals. And I see that this is not going to be a quick pick up. The two of them exchange information about motorcycles, machines, EBay, Craigslist and even when I am done cleaning, I can still hear their voices coming up from the basement. So I vacuum. Thoroughly.
Just when I'm done, Ed comes in from having waved they guy out and down the driveway and asks - why didn't you wait and let me do that?
Because. You'll be wanting to fix yourself lunch now and after, the afternoon will be mostly gone and you wont finish clearing the tree and fixing the mower... But don't worry: vacuuming gave me a chance to think about why women tend not to be entrepreneurial. Maybe I'll read that article after we're done with dinner and I put away the dishes.
He settles in to eat his reheated something or other while I turn my attention to preparing dinner.
And if you picked up from this story the message that I spend too much time on cleaning and tending to meals, well, that's really not so. These days, I don't clean up to my standards of what is a neat and tidy house. It's just one of many many things that I try to get to in the course of the week.
At the end of a day, I am satisfied if I've had time with my family (or sometimes friends) over a good meal in a pleasant setting. And if I've played well with Snowdrop, exhibiting the patience of the calm grandmother. I like thinking ahead to future trips. I'm deeply satisfied if I have had some time to write and yes, Ocean writing does count. I am also happy as a clam (well, more like a butterfly) if the garden is blooming well and if I did something physically demanding. And if Ed and I worked on something together.
Would I be equally satisfied if I put aside much of the above in favor of taking risks and investing time, energy and resources in a venture that might fail?
That's so not me.
Garden walk...
And on to dinner. Photos will replace text here:
(Snowdrop, you have a very chocolaty mouth!)
Dinner done, dishes washed and stacked. The sun has nearly set...
I take Rosie out for a ride.
Last bit of sun, last minutes of work. Grateful for all that this season delivers.
Are you suggesting I look at it?
Ed has always laughed at my lack of entrepreneurial spirit. He cannot understand why I don't want to make money off of Ocean, or why I drag my heels with putting out a book, indeed many books, or why I don't buy into the idea that building something for profit can be fun.
Even though it's a little cool outside, we linger over the morning meal, turning our thoughts to the day ahead. Ed wants to finish clearing the felled tree and, too, he wants to see what damage I did to the tractor-mower. Me -- well, it's time to do a major farmhouse cleaning.
Let me know when you're ready to vacuum - he tells me. And then: Oh, someone's coming by to pick up those motorcycle manuals I put up on Craigslist.
I have two thoughts on this. First, in the matter of vacuuming: though I take responsibility for keeping the house clean (believe me, you would not want to hand over that responsibility to Ed), I have occasionally relinquished the vacuuming to him. Sure, it's not as good as if I did it. So what. It's 30 minutes in my pocket.
My second thought is about those ancient and moldy manuals. Why anyone would want them is beyond me, but Ed was confident that they would sell and months later there is indeed an interested buyer. Ed's success rate in selling stuff on Craigslist hovers at 95% while mine comes in at a dismal below 50%. How does he do it?
As I scrub every corner of the house, Ed pauses in his outdoor work to greet the buyer -- an older guy who has driven here all the way from the Dells (just under two hours) to get the ancient manuals. And I see that this is not going to be a quick pick up. The two of them exchange information about motorcycles, machines, EBay, Craigslist and even when I am done cleaning, I can still hear their voices coming up from the basement. So I vacuum. Thoroughly.
Just when I'm done, Ed comes in from having waved they guy out and down the driveway and asks - why didn't you wait and let me do that?
Because. You'll be wanting to fix yourself lunch now and after, the afternoon will be mostly gone and you wont finish clearing the tree and fixing the mower... But don't worry: vacuuming gave me a chance to think about why women tend not to be entrepreneurial. Maybe I'll read that article after we're done with dinner and I put away the dishes.
He settles in to eat his reheated something or other while I turn my attention to preparing dinner.
And if you picked up from this story the message that I spend too much time on cleaning and tending to meals, well, that's really not so. These days, I don't clean up to my standards of what is a neat and tidy house. It's just one of many many things that I try to get to in the course of the week.
At the end of a day, I am satisfied if I've had time with my family (or sometimes friends) over a good meal in a pleasant setting. And if I've played well with Snowdrop, exhibiting the patience of the calm grandmother. I like thinking ahead to future trips. I'm deeply satisfied if I have had some time to write and yes, Ocean writing does count. I am also happy as a clam (well, more like a butterfly) if the garden is blooming well and if I did something physically demanding. And if Ed and I worked on something together.
Would I be equally satisfied if I put aside much of the above in favor of taking risks and investing time, energy and resources in a venture that might fail?
That's so not me.
Garden walk...
And on to dinner. Photos will replace text here:
(Snowdrop, you have a very chocolaty mouth!)
Dinner done, dishes washed and stacked. The sun has nearly set...
I take Rosie out for a ride.
Last bit of sun, last minutes of work. Grateful for all that this season delivers.
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