Are women happy?

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I am writing this blog in honor of all my "sisters" and would like to have your take on this article.  What did I get out of this article?  I was left wondering, if women  have ever been happy?  Why should we when the heaviest role and responsibility has been placed on us. 


We must contend with monthly hell from the time we are 11 years old - men just have to play with their balls to keep them in the right positions.  We must marry in a timely fashion so as not to be labeled spinsters or old maids... men can continue to be sexy as players and bachelors.  We must produce children before our biological clock says "too old" - men don't have this problem. They can continue to reproduce well into their 70's or longer.  We must carry a living creature in our bellies for nine months enduring hormonal changes mentally and physically to our bodies of which our bodies will never recover - men just fool around for a few minutes, enjoy and donate their sperm. We go through painful childbirth - men just say, "you're doing good honey", then hold the baby after it is born and gaze in awe at what "they" have created! 


Most of the responsibility of raising our offspring is left up to us with the occasional aggravating interference from our spouses.  We are the ones  who are up many nights with sick children, responsible for music lessons, gymnastics, birthday parties, tball/baseball games, cheerleader tryouts, homework, shopping, first dates, and proms.  Where is dad when this is going on?  He walks through the door and asks, "Did we get any mail and what's for dinner?". 


Oh yes and in modern times the woman is also bringing home the bacon or at least half of it.  When we get old and gray and our bellies and boobs are sagging from too many childbirths our man is still looking firm and has aged well. I think they call this distinguished looking in men and "matronly" in women.  His bald head is sexy while our is ugly, old and rather scary looking.  His bushy eye brows are a sign of virility, ours are disgusting.  His 5 o'clock shadow is rugged and sexy looking.  Our mustache is less than desirable...and needs waxing. 


 Going back further in time, we had to fend ourselves from savages and stragglers while our man was away, as we washed clothes and dishes over a hot outdoor fire or at a nearby stream.  We were hunters and gatherers in some societies.  Other societies the women were and still are circumcised for fear that we might enjoy the sexual act or desire another man. We are almost always the victim of rape in wars.  And of course we have since the"Garden of Eden" had to defend our virtue from aggressive men 24 hours a day...in this case humans are not that far removed from animals.  I ask you, have we ever been happy?  The church dictates to many of us not to use birth control in order to  limit the number of pregnancies we might have.  Society condemns us for wanting to rid our bodies of an unwanted pregnancy incurred from rape....  Some saying rape is a "Godly" experience.  I wonder if men feel "Godly" after being raped?

If you are not already a follower of this blog I encourage you to become one. I'm certain I have overlooked something in our pursuit of happiness.  Your take on this is much anticipated, expected and appreciated.


After reading this blog my son suggested that some may find me an angry feminist.  Honestly maybe some days I am but this blog was written in jest even if it does ring a few bells.  

Much love to all my sisters in their pursuit of happiness.

The Garden

We still have a bit of winter to go but I feel spring on the horizon.  I do hope we don't get another freeze before it's over.  I've seen it freeze in Texas in March.  Once we took a "spring break" trip to Colorado for skiing.  My son had an aquarium with some nice size Bala sharks in it.  I remember my husband thinking it was spring therefore since we would be away for a week he turned off the central heat in the house.  I suppose the heater in the aquarium quit working and there was a bad freeze while we were gone.  We returned from our trip to find my son's precious Bala sharks floating on top of the tank,,,all dead.  He was a teenager so he didn't feel the need to have a funeral.  Instead he flushed them down the toilette where they had a burial at sea!


Today is a beautiful spring like day perfect for gardening.  Yesterday I purchased a few tomato and pepper plants so I thought I would do some weeding and tilling in my garden and take the chance that a freeze won't come along and wipe them out....it's kind of foolish of me but I'm impatient to pop that first cherry tomato into my mouth and feel it burst it's sweet nectar onto my taste buds!  First I had to remove the bird net that we had employed last year.  That was a task.  I had to remove all the dead tomato plants from it and untangle it from the tomato cages still laying lopsided in the dirt.  By the time I got that done I had a whopping headache.  So here I am talking about gardening instead of actually doing it.


While I sit here thinking about gardening, wasting away this beautiful sunny day, I'm reminded of my uncle's vegetable garden many years ago when I was a small girl.  I venture back in time every spring when I start my own garden.  My uncle was a big man, not obese, just tall and strong.  I felt so small yet safe when I was with him.  He was a quiet and gentle man, always with a smile on his face.  

His garden was very large and laid out in neat, perfectly spaced rows of corn, beans, peas and melons.  When I stood among the tall growth I felt as if I were in a jungle.  I actually felt lost among the corn stalks, not quite knowing which way was out.  It made a great hiding place if I didn't want to be found.  Sometimes I would go and sit among the tall stalks of corn and journey into my own world of make believe with the clods of dirt and insects.  I could block out the sound of the cars coming from the highway, nature's own sounds would become my symphony.  My favorite time in the garden with my uncle was when we would go deep into the growth to the melon patch and he would pull a watermelon off the vine.  There I would plop down on the warm earth with the sun's rays settling on my skin as they filtered through the tall plants.  My uncle would slowly reach into his pocket and remove the knife that all country men kept tucked away for use on the farm.  I knew exactly what he was about to do and my mouth would begin to water as I waited patiently with excitement.  He moved so slowly as he opened his knife.  The anticipation of what was to come thrilled me.  He would plug that watermelon right in the center and extend his knife to me with that red juicy offering on it.  As I reached for it I could already taste that warm sweat juice flowing over my taste buds awakening my senses.  Sometimes it would run down my chin onto my chest leaving me sticky with melon juice and garden dirt.  A young girl of 7 or 8, I did not care.....I only wanted more.  It was such a special time for me that only he and I shared.  We didn't talk much, instead just enjoyed the moment.  It was like a special little ceremony that was ours alone.  With smiles on our faces we would exit the garden and trek up to the house to share our treasure with the rest of the family.


Those warm summer days with my uncle in his garden gave me some wonderful memories.  I don't think either of us realized at the time that we were making memories, for we were just enjoying the present.  I often wonder if my uncle knew how much our walks in his garden meant to me.  I wonder if I knew it then myself.


I hope to share the same kind of memories with my grandchildren, so I better get to gardening!