What follows, is taken from an email to the new guy a week or so ago.
Shortly after I was baptized 35 years ago(!) one of the married guys in one of my Institute classes offered me a book his wife had allegedly enjoyed. I was still in the process of deciding which elements of feminism were consistent with the gospel, and which were rabid/rampant nonsense.
The book? Fascinating Womanhood. I read it over the weekend, handed it back with a big smile and thanked him for loaning it to me.
“You’re welcome. How did you like it?”
“I liked it a lot. I haven’t laughed that hard in a very long time.” I don’t think that was the answer he had been hoping for.
Men are neither idiots to be manipulated, nor babies to be coddled. I remember a needlework piece that one of my friends had in her home, years ago: “Love, honor, and negotiate.” Negotiation is only possible between parties who know themselves to be equals, and if I were to place it on a spectrum, I would say that manipulation is the world's (fallen, telestial) way; negotiation is perhaps consistent with a terrestrial mindset; and consensus-building, with all parties being heard and valued, begins to approach the Heavenly (celestial) pattern.
And this is turning into a blog post. [Ta-DAAAA!] Sorry. [End of email portion.]
I did re-read Fascinating Womanhood a few years later, when the children’s father and I were up to our ears in multi-level marketing. That time, I read it prayerfully, so that if there were any grains of wheat among the chaff, I would find them. I found a few, but thirty years later I still look on that book with what my father would have called love and suspicion.
If it’s a choice between a man who needs to be managed, and no man, I’d choose No Man’s Land, thankyouverymuch.
In other news, I was bushwhacked by my sinuses yesterday but seem to be recovering nicely. The birthday party for Lark (with her sister Willow in attendance) was enormous fun, even though I was still intermittently honking last night. Both girls like the yarn I picked for their presents.
And I have a date scheduled with the new guy for the middle of next month, though I am sure to see him before then. [The upcoming singles’ conference guarantees it, LOL.] Mt. Washmore tonight, and a planning meeting tomorrow night for a big to-do in my ward at Christmastime, and a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday to check my dipstick for Vitamin D levels, and if all goes well (i.e., I get a lot of things checked off my list at work today and tomorrow) off on Thursday and Friday for more puttering. I would like to get the rest of the house looking as good as the living room and kitchen do, preparatory to the new guy seeing it in a couple of weeks when we go to Secondborn’s for dinner.
Not spazzing. Not yet.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!