You KNOW what the 'F' stands for

I am not a punctilious housekeeper. My home tends to devolve into chaos with some regularity. Rather than sort it out, I go out. The energy to take the chaos in hand and create order arises when someone is coming to visit or when the chaos prevents me from living with intention.

When I was young, I was a finicky homemaker. I refer to that former self as Aurora F. Homemaker (You KNOW what the 'F' stands for). As Aurora F, I made bread on Saturdays; I ironed things that didn't need ironing, fussed about how the towels were hung in the bathroom and raged if anyone dared to walk on my freshly washed kitchen floor. I also recall huffing and cursing my way through the vacuuming chore; the roar of the motor, and the wheeze and moan of the damn machine just set me off. I am relieved to be free of those annoying habits and apologize to my ex-husband for torturing him.

He DID count on the homemade bread, though, and was irascible when I occasionally didn't make bread. I recall a sizzling-hot summer Saturday when I chose to go to the beach with a friend rather than make bread. The Ex was not happy when I called him at work to let him know about our beach outing. He eventually offered that it was OK -- I could simply make the bread on Sunday. I didn't.

That was the beginning of the slow-death of Aurora F, though her demise came many years later.