The S-word

No, it's not about the sea, sand and the sun. It's not even about safe sex. It's about s = spinster as opposed to s = single. Spinster... a woman still unmarried beyond the usual age of marrying. Single ...one only; unique! How does a word which means the same generate such two different meanings. Unique - that's super cool. Beyond the usual age of marrying - what age would that be may I ask? And why does the opposite; bachelor suddenly make me smile??? Spinster as opposed to bachelor. You get bachelor pads, those are cool too. Bachelors are men who have been through loads of women, whose bed has seen so many women fake orgasms, and maybe a handful of them getting the honour of real ones. And while bachelor may make me smile, spinster makes me frown, big time. And that it my picture of spinster, a tight women, with facial hair, dressed in ugly clothing and frowning upon the world. Because since she has not known any man (at least that it what the picture in my mind is like), she has also not know the big Oh-Yes! Thus she is automatically frustrated and frowns on what she has never had and tries to equal it by convincing herself that her virginity is as divine as that of the sculpture of St. Theresa in Ecstasy, which the same saint describes in her autobiography......

"I saw in his hand a long spear of gold, and at the iron's point there seemed to be a little fire. He appeared to me to be thrusting it at times into my heart, and to pierce my very entrails; when he drew it out, he seemed to draw them out also, and to leave me all on fire with a great love of God. The pain was so great, that it made me moan; and yet so surpassing was the sweetness of this excessive pain, that I could not wish to be rid of it. The soul is satisfied now with nothing less than God. The pain is not bodily, but spiritual; though the body has its share in it. It is a caressing of love so sweet which now takes place between the soul and God, that I pray God of His goodness to make him experience it who may think that I am lying."

Plenty of food for thought. But I choose not to be called a spinster, thank you very much. Probably not even single. Thus that makes me co-habitating... with, let me add up... 11 creatures.
A.M.

Housekeeping

I am a terrible housekeeper. I have been brought up in a pristine house where everything was in total order. That was my childhood. But it didn't rub off onto me, not now, not ever. I must be one of those very odd female creatures who have no domesticated gene in their blue blood. Blue of course, it's all royal in there. I cannot clean, I am a lousy cook... i.e. I never cook because I am not interested, it seems so much trouble to go through. My house though, is mostly in order and smells fresh thanks to my friend Brigitte (God thank you for making her come into my life). But there is just one thing which, sadly, unfortunately and strangely enough I excel in. That is Laundry with a capital L. Why? Because it's so easy, you jut dump things into a washing machine, pre-treat fabrics with the appropriate stain remover, take them out, hang them out to dry and iron them to perfection. Another thing which I am good at... ironing. And I never ironed anything before I left my mummy, but I just got tired out of shopping for mostly-Lycra-clothes. So I can iron.

And that makes me wonder what kind of woman I would have been at the turn of last century. Would I have been left a spinster (horrid word) because of my failing culinary abilities? Would that have ruined my chances of winning Mr. Darcy? But who cares, I wouldn't have gone hungry anyway. I would have lived on ice-cream, and if that hadn't been invented yet, I would have invented it myself.... to perfection, because the things I love I do to perfection. Would I have burned my bra and fought for equality? But I love bras, pretty pink and fiendish red, and intense purple and virgin white and seductive black. Let's go waaaayyyyy back. What would Mr. Cavemen have thought, after going to all the trouble of knocking me unconscious and dragging me back to his den, only to find out that his hunting prize was going to rot and that his guts would grumble? Who cares? BUT, would this ruin my chance of clinching Mr. Big forever? Hmmm probably not because he always dines out so that would be so much fun! You see times have changed, and thankfully, the undomesticated me still stands a chance in 2008. Because Shakespeare was a fortune teller..... "If music be the food of love, play on"'. It may be dated and cheesy. But that's exactly what I do.