(First of all, I promise not to continue the variety show metaphor ad naseum. No one needs to see post 12,354 as Act 242: Bring on the Elephants! or some nonsense. Er. Well, then. Moving on.)
So I've been reading this book, Radical Homemakers. The author details an in-depth history of domesticity along with interviews of current homemakers. She chooses some fascinating people from all walks of life who have opted out of consumerism and into a life based on family, DIY and the home. A challenging read and recommended for anyone with interest on the topic.
Even though I haven't finished, the book has got me thinking about who I am, about what I do. Do fall under the label of "radical homemaker"? First of all, am I radical? Hardly. While my politics lean toward the bleeding heart end of liberal, I can hardly be counted on for the next G20 protest. Am I a homemaker? Not in the 1950's stereotype of stay- at- home wife and mother, waiting for her next Valium. Not in the current sense of the term either, working in the home as my primary job. If I am neither, what am I? Is my fondness for the domestic arts just a hobby or a quirk?
Thankfully homemaker isn't a term easily pigeonholed. I'm starting to think homemaking is a philosophy not a role. The book speaks to those who would embrace a different way of looking at life that includes creation from the home instead of external consumption. That's where I think I am. Now, I haven't managed to weave my own undies out of homegrown cotton. Or convince my husband to live off the grid. But, I do like to can peaches I pick myself and have been known to make my own mozzarella. If I ever get this skirt pattern to fit, I may even be the type to make my own clothes. Eventually, I would love to make or grow more food than we buy.
Hm. Maybe I'm more radical that I thought.
