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Showing posts with label homestead families. Show all posts
Showing posts with label homestead families. Show all posts

Monday, July 30, 2012

Monday Musings.

Typing with an ice pack balanced on my hand reminded me of charm school.  No kidding -- I really went to charm school.  Back in the day, I was a bonafide tomboy - rough and tumble, wouldn't wear a dress (see how much I've changed...?), had permanently dirty elbows and knees; I was heading hellbent to feral.  My mother, bless her soul, was afraid for my future prospects and decided to take matters in hand.

Every weekend, I would shuffle into class with the other assorted "problem" girls and spend hours learning how to walk, stand, sit, get into and out of a car, pour tea, make polite conversation, turn gracefully - you name it, we were put through it.  We learned how to deal with a vast assortment of spoons, forks, knives, plates, and glasses.  I was quite taken with the wine glasses and was greatly disappointed when we were served water.  Even at 12, I had gourmand sensibilities.  (Right.)  And, even though I griped and moaned and carried on something awful every weekend, I had to go.  After a while, my competitive nature took over and I ended up graduating at the top of my class.  Really, honest-to-gawd.  Even now, many (many) years later, faced with six forks to my left, I can handle them.  Fish fork?  No problem.  Cheese knife?  Let me at it.  I can pivot, with a book on my head, and sit gracefully in a chair.  Of course, there's not much call for that particular ability, and it's a little harder getting out of a chair these days. 

Seriously, those forced Saturdays of "yes, ma'ams" and "no ma'ams" did serve me well in adulthood.  I was able to carry on an intelligent conversation with the Chinese emissaries from a large trade group; I won over a formidable, anti-American French restaurant owner with good manners, a smattering of bad French and a sense of humor; I danced with a Governor at a Governor's ball.  Hooo, baby.  There was no stopping me.  But, at heart, I am still more feral than not.  It's sort of like covering a fox in fondant.  Or something like that.

I think we should send everyone in the world to charm school.  Maybe, if everyone learned good manners, we could get along better.  There seems to be a complete dearth of manners in anyone under the age of 20 now.  But there is hope!  More and more families (most especially my favorite families - youse guys) are teaching their children kindness and civility - they are being raised on love.  That's what the world needs.  A whole lotta love.