Dueling Crockpots

I had a large chunk of pig, and decided to divide it and cook it overnight so as to have choice of lunch items tomorrow. On the left is cranberry pork; on the right, southwestern pork. We shall see how they turn out.

Curse of the Competent Woman

Herself speaks.

As I have mentioned previously, when I was a preteen, the feminism movement was strong, and there was a tremendous push to encourage young girls: "you can do anything!" "You can have any career you choose, if you set your mind to it." "Girls are just as good at math, at science, at everything, as boys." I believed it. I had no sense that things might be otherwise. The all-girls high school I attended (and at which I received the most excellent education) further underscored the potential of each girl to achieve. We learned self-reliance, fortitude, perseverance. All very good traits that have served me well, not only in college, but thereafter, and always.

There is one downside, though, of which we were not aware then, and about which we were never taught:

The curse of the competent woman.

When you are smart and strong and capable, self-reliant and persevering, so much is expected of you. And you willingly take on task after task, juggling and multitasking, because women can do anything, so surely you should be able to do ALL THIS too.

And then, some days, you realize you are tired. And occasionally overwhelmed. Really, what you would like most of all is for someone to make you dinner and take care of all the million little things for a few hours, just so that you can have a respite from all the things that a competent woman does. But, you are a competent woman -- you can do. And so you do. You do not ask for help, because that is most definitely not what a competent woman does. You do, and do, and thus it becomes: barring an Absolutel Crisis, you are expected to continue to do all that you do.

Why? Because women can do anything if they set their minds to it.

So very tired.
Too tired to ask for help.
Perhaps, for now, a nap is best.

In My Life

Today's earworm: the Kei Pham cover of In My Life (Beatles). I am not a Beatles fan, particularly. Yet this simple cover is magnificent.

There are places I'll remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life, I've loved them all

I hope you enjoy.

Spot of Sunshine

Paschal Wreath

I am not crafty at all. Yet, for some mysterious reason, I decided that I should make a decoration for the front door for this Easter season. Here is my effort. It is a bit humble, but not too bad overall. 

Ta-daa!

The Way It Is

Herself speaks.

Why are all the little things so... annoying?

Inability to speak a language well enough to haggle at a garage sale.
Absence of replacement toilet paper rolls in the ladies' room.
The slow driver who does not use turn signals.
A roll of tape that refuses to start cleanly.
Chewing noises.
Clutter.
Litter.

These infinitesimal items -- oftentimes tolerable -- sometimes become less ignorable.
They chafe.
Irritation grows.

Why is this?
----

Sometimes, we hold a small, yet deep-rooted, anger inside. It is a seed that sprouts in the mulch of injustices and unkindnesses that have been bestowed upon us. It is watered by our righteousness in How Things Should Be. It is warmed by our unspoken and unmet hopes and desires. When we are thwarted or disappointed -- that kernel grows. When we are lonely or heartsick -- it grows. When we are wronged -- oh, how it grows.

Our senses are heightened by the presence of that internal anger. Sometimes, its verdant growth casts a shadow over all else: and then the minuscule grievances that might otherwise be not worth mentioning, seem to stand out in stark relief. We are weighed down by the anger within, and so, we lash out at the petty annoyances. They seem to be clear examples of All That Is Wrong With The World.
-----

Anger is a tricky emotion. It is one of the very few that (as society tells us) Men are legitimately allowed to show. Women, on the other hand, must not show their anger: our job is to placate, to mollify, to dismiss, excuse, smooth over, forgive, forget -- and anger has no place there. Someday I will dissect the Male and Female of Anger.

Today, though, the question is: what to do with our anger?

For anger that is based in How We Want Things To Be, the solution appears to be:

Acknowledge that This Is The Way It Is.

Generally speaking, we cannot change the ways of the world.
Specifically speaking, we cannot change other people.
Wanting, expecting, or hoping otherwise is folly.

(This, we know -- yet it is eternally human to Hope, despite all odds.)

If we let go of What Is Not, we can accept what Is.

Acceptance is the first step to letting go of Anger.

It is the hardest step, too.

This is

The way

It is

Listen to the Wind

If you listen to the wind very carefully, you'll be able to hear me whisper my love for you. ― Andrew Davidson