House.....wife.

Last year my house turned 100 years old. When I get a spare minute, I often think about Mabel Jones/Fitzgerald for whom this house was built. Her father was Henry Jones, the entrepreneur who made a fortune out of IXL Jam and all kinds of industries associated with it.....orchards, tin mining, hydro electricity etc. In Hobart terms, he was a kind of olde worlde version of David Walsh. When Mabel lived here, the buttons in the front rooms summoned live in domestic staff. Not any more. Nobody comes....trust me, I've pressed them often enough.

I wonder what Mabel would make of our house and my chaotic, fly - by - the - seat - of - my - pants style of housewifery which reigns supreme. There have no doubt been changes.....back in her day, two of her sisters lived in the two houses next door. These days one is occupied by a retired senator and a lactation specialist and the other by a proctologist. Things have changed even in the eight years that we have known our house.....the people who lived here before us had a grand piano in what is now our library, a dental surgery in the downstairs bedroom and a fetish for an old - lady - underpants - pink and mint colour scheme. During our time here we have put the kitchen in the dining room:

bookshelves in what is now the library:

and significantly upped the number of bathrooms from the pathetic two that were already here. Now, I'm happy to  report that there is no old - lady - underpants - pink anywhere to be seen:

.....and poor old mum has admitted to nightmares having slept in the bed where the dentist's chair once was.

Housewifery, is of course a specialist occupation. Last night, a friend sent me a link to this utterly fabulous music video made by the very clever housewife, Meg Bignell:

http://megoracle.com

What else is there to say? Other than that I love Meg's work.

I didn't set out to become a housewife.....even though I may have done an Arts degree. I had various work incarnations before I was finally promoted to my current position of housewife, just before the birth of our third child. And now we are well and truly outnumbered with four precious little darlings.....why watch TV? Anyway. It's at this point that I've promised said husband that I'll mention the fact that while I may be a housewife, not only do I manage our house and family but ALSO our investment portfolio and a very long winded subdivision/construction/renovation which is inching closer to completion. There you have it, I am a clandestine property developer. On the side. I'm sorry to say that too much talk of dresses makes him very upset....I promise that I'm working on making sure that our boys don't inherit this character flaw. They will be happy to read about dresses until the cows come home. This might be the ideal point in which to insert the photo of the outfit voted by you for me to wear last Friday night....drumroll please:

Sometimes I worry that by being a housewife, I've lost my own identity. See, here's my version of a mood board.....or rather a notice board, which hangs in the kitchen:

It's a veritable mess of party invitations for children....and mercifully a couple for grown ups, dancing competition info, soccer and debating rosters, merit certificates, school notices AND a photo of my guru, Bikram Choudhury, a postcard we sent the children from the Taj Lake Palace in Udaipur, a gorgeous Liberty heart from the crafty Jane at Life on Planet Baby** and a thank you note from the follower who won my giveaway. So I 'm not quite totally overwhelmed....just yet.

And, at the end of the day, being a housewife has allowed me to become really quite good at Bikram Yoga:

Rx

** I recently commissioned Jane to make my girl's names and look how beautifully they turned out:

Wouldn't they make the perfect gift for friend's welcoming a new baby?