Undoubtedly, this is one of my favourite quotes, though I must admit what really attracted me to this saying was the image of gentleman in the Johnnie Walker advertisement determinedly striding on no matter what!
This last month has been one whirl of activity with three grandchildren at home, two of them under three months! With the eldest of them being all of just 2 and 5 months, you can imagine how hectic it was from one poo to the next. But it was fun to have them around and even more challenging to remain calm and unhassled amidst all the activity of a ‘maternity ward’. This meant that there were lots of jobs that remained to be done – lots of things that needed tidying up. Indeed household jobs are never done.
Finally, today, with everyone out of the house ( each daughter in her own little nest) and the Hubby out on his own job that needed to be done, I had the house the house all to myself this morning. But I decided not to bask in the quiet , rather use the time to catch up with all those jobs that were crying out to be done. So unlike Johnnie, I didn’t put on my top hat, but like him, I took the first step and began my journey of tidying up my life….
The first step for me is almost always related to my kitchen and after looking into the fridge, I went to my favourite place in the world Bhaji Gulley and stocked up on veggies for the week ( yes I know Sunday is not the best day for Market) . I then called up my tailor and dropped off 7 blouse pieces so that he could get them stitched before my size changed. It would also help me wear my saris, many of which were languishing in my cupboard simply because I have no blouse to wear them with!
Around two months ago I re-launched my blog with Blogelina and found that I just didn’t have time to follow through with the re-launch. Yes, I did manage to transfer two blogs into one but the issue of re-tagging, recategorising , re-ordering the menu still remained. So I re-organised my mail messages , read through them and tried to tidy up the blog once more.
With three babies to handle, I had borrowed a cot from a young friend. This became superfluous once the babies left so I dismantled it and sent it off to her with a thank you cake. Phew! That was a job that needed to be done especially since the guest room is going to be occupied from tomorrow night!
And even though every task on the list has not been ticked off, like Johnnie, I’ve taken the first step and am confident enough to stride through it by the end of this week.
Or will it still get longer ?
I’m linking up to Corinne’s blog hop. Do join me on this delightful blogging journey.
While cleaning out the cupboard, an orange silk sari reminded me of another era when college chic meant ‘Saris on Saturday’ because we’d run out of clothes to wear by then. Our regular wardrobe comprised a pair of ill-fitting denim jeans (a sad attempt at Levi, by the neighbourhood darzi ), worn with humongous ( ‘extra small’ fitted two of me) Chinese collared Khadi kurtas in bright solid colours that faded with every wash, accessorised with oversized, embroidered cotton bags bought from various State Emporia and flatter than flat Kolhapuris.
Was it any wonder then that our mothers’ saris were more fashionable?
Since Sunday I’ve had plenty of time to think of things that have captured the imagination of the entire nation apart from the humdrum duties of a home maker that are normally topmost on my mind. Ever since details of the gruesome murder of Sheena Bora surfaced in the Press, all that everyone is talking about (or at least the TV Channels) is, who did it and why. Similarly, the equally bizarre bomb hoax call that led to the arrest of a Bengaluru techie who had hatched an elaborate and convoluted plan to eliminate his spouse and that of his former girlfriend has left me wondering what kind of world are we really living in. What happened to the simple world of whodunnit’s that we were brought up on, where Enid Blyton’s Fatty of the Five Find Outers made the village policeman really look like a goon ? In fact when I later on graduated to the genteel world of Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot, I used to wonder how a seemingly idyllic English countryside would have so many murders going on? But today’s Press shows that murders seem to be the flavour of the day .
Why do people like whodunnits?
Perhaps it is our intrinsic and macabre fascination with the darker side of human nature ( which Society dictates we have to keep in check) that makes the detective story one of the most popular genres of storytelling, one with a universal appeal. Or is it the smug satisfaction of having “solved” the crime well before the murderer is uncovered in the last chapter?
Is this the reason why the entire nation ( sorry Arnav) wants to know why Indrani Mukherjea killed her daughter?
How do these clever criminals actually believe that they will get away scot free? Aren’t they the smart ones who think two steps ahead of the game? Or does greed and lust turn their brains to mush?
The other mysteries
Why did I stop wearing saris?
Tired of wearing just two trousers and two shirts all year long, I decided to get back to my saris that were literally gathering dust in my cupboards. Imagine my horror when I found the sari ripping up as I folded it up after the day’s wear! I decided that they needed to be worn and torn rather than just giving way in my cupboard. But what stopped me from wearing them? The answer is simple enough, the blouses just don’t fit any more and getting them tailored is more of a fiddle than one can imagine………matching the sari, getting them customised and finally getting them ready on time before my size increases!
Which then solved the next mytery :
Why did women of a certain generation only have 4 coloured blouses?
Women of my granny’s and mother’s generation only had four basic blouses: 1 dark green , 1 brick red, 1 jet black and 1 pristine white. The more fashionable of them would possibly have an extra one made of “chicken” ( no not like Lady Gaga’s beefy dress) but of embroidered or lace fabric sold by the once famous and now defunct Hakoba Mills.
I wonder if the other two mysteries would be just as easy to solve!
Who killed Sheena Bora?
Why did the techie not just divorce his wife rather than murder her?
Twenty- five Seven 