So: blogging distraction at you're service, linking up for the first time with Housewifespice's What We're Reading Wednesday.
This week I'm reading All Things Bright and Beautiful by James Herriot, which I found on our bookshelf one evening while hunting for something "nice and happy." I'm not finished with it yet, but my goodness I do love it. His storytelling style is right up my alley, the way he describes people and animals is uncanny, and his true love of life and being alive and the world teeming with life is just a joy to participate in. Oh, and let's not forget his courtship of his wife interspersed throughout. And I laugh! Out loud! All the time.
Before this I was reading C.S. Lewis' space trilogy. I've finished Out of the Silent Planet and Perelandra, but had to take a break before reading That Hideous Strength because Tommy was reading it and what the heck? Meanie. But it gave me the opportunity to discover Herriot, so I'll forgive him.
Speaking of Perelandra...
I was just having a chat earlier today with a friend about (our own) false martyrdom where we start to think that anything that we want and makes us happy is wrong and that we should always feel miserable. Even if the thing we want and makes us happy is good and holy and is also good for our family in the long run, we somehow manage to make ourselves feel guilty for doing it. The Enemy can be so sneaky because just think about that: we start to feel like it's a moral good to avoid doing something that's good and to make everyone around us sad in the process. How disordered is that? Answer: very
Anyway, there is this part in Perelandra that talks about this exact phenomenon- a wife insists on waiting to eat until her husband comes home from work even though not eating makes her very crabby and uncomfortable and her husband specifically doesn't like when she's miserable and wants her to just go ahead and eat but she insists on waiting in order "to be a good wife." Hah! I totally did this! Except it wasn't food. It was undershirts.
The Undershirt Story
I used to loathe washing the white clothes because folding them is such a tedious, time consuming process. I mentioned this to my husband one day and he said "You don't have to fold my socks and underwear and undershirts. No one's gonna see them. Who cares if they're wrinkled?" And I was all "But I MUST. That is what good wives do. Good wives fold undershirts even if they hate it and their husband tells them it's okay not to!" So I kept folding all the white clothes and I kept hating it and he kept telling me not to waste my time and I kept being stubborn and falling on the sword of my most hated chore. Until one day I told my dear step-mom about this and she laughed and said "Why don't you just throw the stuff in the drawer, then? Why are you insisting on making yourself miserable for no reason?"
Ding. Ding. Ding.
And I've never folded a pair of underwear or an undershirt since.