“Invisible Chores”: The White Picket Fence

I love to just “relatively loaf” around for a few weeks in between tackling major chores. Fall and spring are both my busiest seasons, so I like to give myself a “reading vacation” in August to gear up for September, and in January or February before Spring. “Relatively loafing” means that, relative to my normal activity level, I consider myself to be loafing. A “reading vacation” means that only minimal maintenance is accomplished. The most major task I will tackle is the act of reading a complete novel.

This week, with the first full days of school, I began the gargantuan task of painting my white picket fence. This is what I call an “invisible chore”. Like dusting and vacuuming, it is a task that does not get noticed unless it is neglected. Painting a new color is much more glamorous because everyone is bound to notice. But white on white is not too rewarding.

Still, it must be done, and when I get up close and see what a real difference I am really making in the condition of the wood pickets, I am really glad I did not skip another season. I am certain I have not coated the fence since before my last pregnancy, and it is a job that really should be done every other year.

As I painted, I recalled a quote that I had read in the paper during Christie Brinkley’s public divorce proceedings. She said, “I thought I had the white picket fence.” What she meant was, she thought she had the perfect marriage until the horrendous revelation otherwise. The white picket fence has always represented the suburban American dream, usually going along with marriage, 2.5 kids, and a dog.

When we see a white picket fence dividing front and back yards on a luscious green lawn, we usually do not think about what goes into its maintenance. It is menial. It is not glamorous. It is not romantic. You have to get your hands dirty, and maybe even paint in your hair. The same goes for marriage – especially with kids. Not until you are in it do you realize what really goes into it from day to day.

If you don’t keep up with those invisible chores, the white picket fence starts to gray a bit. Another season and a layer of mold begins to grow. Yet another and the paint begins to peel. Next comes the weather rot, which invites the termites to come have a party. Then you have to start replacing pickets. If you don’t, the whole fence might just come down.

And you don’t want that.

So just keep up the good work to keep up your strong fence, and family.

“Garden Roses White Picket Fence” Painting by Heidi Malott

Cleanliness, Inside and Out

We accomplished so many things in the past week that it feels like a whole month has gone by! I hardly noticed that the kids had started school again, because I was still working on a spur-of-the-moment weekend home improvement project.

My Mom arrived for her visit last Wednesday night. I had spent all day straightening out the house. My brother had also helped me to get the kids’ rooms in order, so everything appeared to be clean and organized.

On Thursday we prepared for my son’s seventh birthday party, a Whiz Bang! Science Experiment Party. I was a little nervous about the experiments, because I had never gotten around to trying them out myself. Here on Long Island, most class parties are held at a professional party place, so kids are used to being entertained. I always feel like I have to meet a certain standard to keep their attention. But everything went smoothly, and the kids had a blast. We even got a little whiffle-ball in. I was very relieved to have it over with.

During the party, we grew some crystals. I got out some food dye to color the crystals and asked each child what his or her favorite color was. When my nine-year-old said GREEN my Mom carefully noted the change from her long-standing old favorite color, PINK.

“Why is her room still pink? Let’s paint it green!”

I agreed, not knowing what I was getting myself into.

On Friday, Mom took my nine- and ten- year-old girls out for a day of beauty. They got hair and nails done. They stopped at Walmart for color chips. We picked out a shade we could all concur on, and Mom went back to pick up two gallons.

“We’re not going to start today though?” I half stated, half asked, “They have their dress rehearsal at 5:00.”

“I’ll just do a little cutting in,” said Mom, “It’ll be a cinch.”

I dropped the girls off at the church and returned. Before I knew it, Mom had all the furniture moved away from the wall. I cringed because I knew what was lurking there.

Bags and boxes full of miscellaneous girly stuff. Doll clothes, hair thingies, game pieces, play jewelry, markers, old cards and papers, all in a jumble. She started to put things in bags.

“Just clear out behind the headboard and we’re done,” she said.

I was overwhelmed by all the stuff. I needed time to sort through everything. I misplaced a bag that had her precious American Girl Kirsten’s Noah’s Ark set in it. I went to inspect the garbage in the street but could not find it. I burst into tears. I left Mom with the gargantuous chore and went to catch the end of the girls’ dress rehearsal.

Mom painted all day Saturday, and we went to the see my daughters perform in The Sound of Music that night. It was absolutely beautiful.

On Sunday, we went to Mass, came back home, had lunch, and put the baby to bed. I brought the girls back to the parish hall, saved our seats, went to Home Depot for new blinds and Stop ‘n’ Shop for flowers, and back to the church to meet my in-laws for the matinee performance. My husband and son met us there. Mom stayed home with the baby. She did the white trim and put everything back in place.

My daughter was absolutely delighted with her new room. Mind you, I still had all of her STUFF in my study and could not even get to my computer until I sorted through it all and carted out the unneeded boxes.

So Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday morning after the kids went off to school, Mom worked on an academic article, I worked on sorting through the stuff, and together we took care of my toddler. The time flew! And then she flew away.

An hour ago, I got through the last shoebox full of stuff and put the sorted under-the-bed boxes where they belonged. We decided which pictures to keep, and they went up on the wall. It’s the cleanest room in the house. I have always thought the best way to clean out a room is to paint it!

It got me thinking about how our secret thoughts can be like all the dusty stuff lurking behind my daughter’s furniture. We might look and act like “nice people”, but we know all the prejudicial, judgmental, complaining, non-loving thoughts that we might harbor in our hearts. The only way to get rid of those spiritual dust mites are through prayer, confession, reading God’s Word, and filling our minds with Godly thoughts. Then we can look clean and actually BE clean.

“How good God is to the upright, the Lord, to those who are clean of heart!”
Psalm 73:1

A Day Out with Dad

Today my husband took the children to his mother’s house while I painted the children’s bathroom. It has cathedral ceilings, so quite a large proportion of working time is spent moving the ladder around.

I was working for a full hour in absolute silence, when I dropped my edging brush from the top of the ladder. It fell twelve feet down and hit the bathtub with a resounding CLANG. I reacted, thinking, “Ooh, I hope that didn’t wake up the baby!”

I am so used to doing this sort of work during her naptime, enjoying the solitude and silence, that I had completely forgotten she was not at home! This was quite an odd experience for me.

I could play music! I could play it as loud as I wanted! I ran downstairs to select some fun working music. I turned the volume up so I could hear it way up at the top of the house.

I played three CDs and returned to the quiet. Quiet work is soothing to the soul. I can think my thoughts and pray unceasingly and maybe even hear a word the Lord has for me at the moment.

Several hours later, I had just finished cleaning up when the husband and kids came through the door. They had had a terrific day. They even went to their uncles’ hockey game. They got to stay out late and play video games at the sports complex. They were dirty and smelly and all smiley. A day with dad certainly agreed with them!

“Be still and know that I am God.”
Psalms 46:10

Painting the Rosary

My current project is not a very exciting one. I am staining the rails of the deck that comes off my kitchen. It is a job that needs to be done about every five years. With six sides to every spindle, working during the baby’s nap time, it typically takes me a few weeks to complete.

Putting on a new color is always very exciting. Even white-on-white can be a thrill, if the old white has gotten quite dingy. Brown-on-brown is quite dull. No one but me will ever notice the job has been done. However, once I get started, it is a job that I thoroughly enjoy.

People ask me why I don’t just spray-on or use a painting mitt. My answers are: (1) a brush always gives the best coverage on wood; (2) a brush offers more control; and (3) I enjoy using a brush. There is a fourth reason, as well. It brings back childhood memories.

When I was around ten years old, my father let me help him to build a deck. We bought the wood and a new router. He showed me how to route the edges of each slat to give it a sharper look. We designed the way the slats would go around the deck, and the way we wanted the tops to look. I believe we used cedar, but we went for a semi-transparent redwood stain. Every two years I would help him to stain the deck again.

The house was stained a brown cedar color – I would choose a similar shade in staining my own cedar shakes many years later. Dad explained why stain was better for wood than paint. The oils seep into the wood, preserving its moisture; paint sits on top of the wood and allows it to dry out.

Whether I am using stain or paint, the act of brushing either on offers me an opportunity for contemplation and prayer. I can use each thin slat of wood as a rosary bead, focusing on one intent per rail, until I come to a main rail, which I use as an Our Father bead.

I hope that all my family and friends felt blessed today, as you were each interceded for.

“Pray without ceasing.” I Thessalonians 5:17

Piero della Francesca (1420-92)
Adoration of the Holy Wood and the Meeting of Solomon and Queen of Sheba
c.1452; Fresco, San Francesco, Arezzo