FAIS DO-DO

Remember Jack and Alma, from An Acadiana Love Affair, over in my sidebar? I've mentioned before that they were my first in-the-flesh examples of people who were truly "living the good life." Years ago, Alma told me about the Cajun hoe-downs called fais do-do. It was one of the many times that I have found myself in a funk over the years, feeling that I was just born into the wrong place and time. I could have made a great Cajun!

In the book Eula Mae's Cajun Kitchen: Cooking Through the Seasons on Avery Island, by Eula Mae Dore and Marcella R. Bienvenu, there is a wonderful description of these country dances:

A fais do-do (FAY-DOE-DOE) means to "go to sleep" or "sleep." But, in reality, it's like a Cajun hoedown, a country dance. Because there were few public dance halls, families often gathered on Saturdays, bringing all the children, even very young babies, to enjoy eating as well as dancing. The music, sometimes referred to by the locals as "chanky-chank," was provided by an accordion, a fiddle, and a "ting-a-ling," or triangle. The favored dance of the Cajuns is called a two-step and is akin to a waltz, but livened up with little jig steps.

"Mais oui," says Eula Mae, "we sometimes danced until dawn. And sometimes, we danced outside under the trees because the houses were rather small.La poussière - the dust- would fly under our feet!"Babies were often put to sleep in another room with a grandmother or other older family member to keep them quiet while the band played on. But sometimes, a mother would hold her baby in her lap until she got up to dance, handing her child to someone else.Oh, yes, a fais do-do was a good time - a good time for everyone to catch up on the news, see cousins and other relatives, and, of course, eat! More often than not, everyone brought a dish. One family might bring a gumbo or stew; another supplied seafood to boil or fish to fry, and there were always sweet treats, like cakes, cookies, or some kind of dessert made with local fruits."

As it turns out, I wasn't born in the wrong time, just the wrong place. Last night our friends Heather and Marc hosted, in honor of their 10th anniversary, a "Reception Re-do" at Fischer Hall. It seems their actual wedding reception was cut short by a typhoon, and they had promised themselves a re-do at some future date. And so, I am thrilled to inform you, the fais do-do is alive and well in the Texas Hill Country!

P.S. The top photo is of our host and hostess. Since you can't really see Marc's face, just picture my brother Bill - they could be stunt doubles for one another!

MY OBSESSION

What do you call someone who is obsessed with color? Can one be a colorist, rather than an artist or a designer? I have had many jobs and hobbies in my life, but most all of them have had something to do with color. When I got my very first job at a fabric store, it was because I loved playing with all the different colors and textures, pulling them into exciting combinations. When I chose to major in clothing and textiles, it wasn't because I wanted to convince women that they needed to ditch what they had and start fresh with all new clothes each season. If anything, that's what drove me away from it. No, I just loved pulling together the different outfits and color combinations. Same with plants - it's not the gardening so much as playing with color and design. Why didn't I mind moving constantly? Because I got to try out new color combinations in each new house.

So why do I love Fonda San Miguel in Austin? One guess.

SPEAKING BOOKS

One thing my mother was very good at was figuring out how to entertain four kids without spending much money. She knew every food manufacturer in town that offered tours with free samples at the end. She knew where all the best parks and playgrounds were. Most importantly, she knew how to make the most of our neighborhood library. When we were very small, it meant taking us to the library for story time, and checking out picture books for us. When we were a bit older, and could read on our own, we waited with keen anticipation for the big day when she finally decided we were ready for our very own library card.

On one of our weekly library forays, when I was about eight years old, I happened to pick up a book called All-of-a-Kind Family. I started reading it that evening after supper, and kept at it until my eyes grew heavy, then I put it aside and got ready for bed. That's when it happened. The book actually spoke to me! I was lying in my bed, trying to get to sleep, when suddenly I heard the book calling my name. I tried to ignore it, but it was very persistent. It kept tempting me by saying things like "Aren't you curious? Don't you want to know what the kids in the book are up to now? Aren't you dying to know what will happen next?" Eventually I gave in, and got up out of bed. This became a regular occurrence from that point on, and a bit of an irritation to my parents, who had to keep returning to my room at night to turn off the lights. Some of the books were memorable, some were not, but I will never forget that one. The very first one that actually called my name.

Back in those days, it never occurred to me that I might run out of time before I ran out of books. So, for most of my life I have felt obligated to finish every book I started, unless it was really and truly terrible. It is just of late that I have begun to question that practice. The stacks of books that I want to read are beginning to take over my house, and there just isn't time for them all. When I get mired down in a book I don't particularly enjoy, and have to drag myself back to it each time, the piles seem to mushroom as they wait for my return. Finally I had to ask myself "Why?" Who says I have to waste my time finishing a book that's just OK, when there are still millions left that are fabulous? So, just last week I made an addition to my rules for good living. I will give each book a fair shot at capturing my attention, reading at least a quarter of the way through, and then I will set it aside for a bit. If, by that point, it hasn't spoken to me at all, if there is no voice calling me to please, please come back... Well, then I must admit that our relationship is over and done with. It is time to go our separate ways!

P.S. Many thanks to pussreboots.pair.com for the above image.

COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET

Now that I know you all a bit better, and considering the winds of change that are headed this way, I've decided it's time for a confession. I want to tell you a deep, dark secret - one I have struggled to keep hidden for many, many years. My name is Becky T. Lane, and I...was a Home Ec. major. There, it's finally out in the open. Whew, what a relief!

For years now, any time someone asked me what my major was in college, I usually mumbled something about "merchandising", then quickly went on to add that I later went back for a degree in horticulture. Which is true, but the first degree was actually a B.S. in Home Economics, with a specialization in Clothing, Textiles, and Fashion Merchandising. Why did I keep it under wraps? Well, because when you tell someone you were a Home Ec. major, at the very least you can expect a condescending grin or a derisive snort. Usually it's followed by a comment such as "Ah, I see! You were working on your M.R.S., huh?" So, why then, have I suddenly decided to "out" myself? Well, the times, they are a changin'!

In her wonderful book Depletion and Abundance: Life On The New Home Front, or One Woman's Solutions to Finding Abundance for Your Family while Coming to Terms with Peak Oil, Climate Change and Hard Times, author Sharon Astyk wrote "We often believe that work done for money in the 'public' world is more valuable than work done to avoid needing money in the 'private' realm. This is one of the reasons that we tend to devalue homemaking and other domestic labor. And such devaluation is deeply bound up in industrial capitalism...When we decide something lacks value and power, we demean it. For a long time private labor was demeaned in part because women were considered secondary and inferior, and much private subsistence labor was done by women in the home. When women began to work more often in the public realm, they, for the most part, accepted industrial capitalism's diminution of the importance and meaning of home-based labor, deciding that working 'out' was a way to achieve political and social power. Women came to see abandoning 'women's work' as means to power. So some of it we stopped doing (gardening, canning, much cooking and sewing); other parts (childcare, housecleaning, food preparation) we contracted out to low-paid, often non-white workers of low status. So while women's status in society rose, domestic, private work fell even further in cultural value, and so did the status of 'private life' and its practices."

Now, however, people are waking up to the fact that industrial capitalists may not have our best interests at heart, nor has rampant consumerism made us quite as happy as we thought it would. And so, the pendulum seems to be swinging in the opposite direction. Just the other day I read a post over at the blog Down To Earth, entitled The Return of the Homemaker. In it she discusses the many women who are returning to private life, either by choice, to raise their own children, or perhaps because they were laid off. They are discovering that there is much they can do to contribute to their family's health and well-being there at home. And, as we are forced to deal with wars, peak oil, global warming and assorted natural disasters, financial crises, foreclosures and lack of work, plus water and food shortages, more and more will discover that they can gain independence by learning to look after themselves, grow food and reduce their debt as much as possible. They will also find that there is joy to be found in living a simple, green, frugal life.

So, finally, a woman who can knit, sew, mend, alter, plant a garden, can and preserve food, cook meals from scratch, bake bread, raise chickens, milk a cow, make cheese and yogurt, build a solar oven, make compost, catch rain, re-sole shoes, home-school her children and keep them entertained and happy using her imagination and little else, well, this woman is becoming something of a commodity. Skills that we have been keeping under wraps since we were "liberated" back in the early 70's are once again being brought out into the open.

Seeing this trend in the blogs that I follow has got me to thinking about the movie Gone With the Wind. Sure, Scarlett had her faults, but you have to give credit where credit is due. When the going got tough, and women such as the precious Melanie were turning into sniveling piles of uselessness, that Katy Scarlett O'hara hitched up her skirts, straightened her spine, and did what needed to be done. She dug those potatoes, whipped up dresses out of curtains, learned about birthin' babies, and kept her family together in spite of dire conditions. She was a woman of spunk and determination, and I hope the same can be said of me, should the occasion arise.

What about you? If the going gets tough, which will you turn out to be? A Scarlett, or a Melanie?

P.S. Many thanks to hubpages.com for the above image.

LITTLE RIPPLES

After The Muses and I attended that county commissioner's meeting back in February, hoping to fight the approval of yet another dense housing development that would suck this aquifer dry, I felt compelled to write my very first letter-to-the-editor. In it I simply asked why, if we are all as concerned about dwindling water supplies as we claim to be, we haven't enacted any mandatory water restrictions here in Wimberley.

Surprisingly, my letter was published in the very next issue of The Wimberley View. Then, a week or two later, there was an article in the paper announcing that at long last, after months and months of fighting about all the nit-picky details of a restriction plan, the commissioners had voted unanimously to "get this puppy" enacted. Upon reading this, I jokingly said "Ha! You see this, John? I bet it was my letter that finally made them get their rears in gear and do something!" Then we both had a good belly laugh over the absurdity of my statement.

Funny thing is, I have these google alerts set up, that tell me whenever my name, or the name of my blog, gets mentioned somewhere on line, because it's fun to see when something you write gets quoted somewhere else. Well, right after I made that ludicrous declaration, I received an alert telling me that my name was mentioned in the minutes of a recent city council meeting. When I followed the link and read further, I discovered that one of the commissioners got up and read my letter-to-the-editor aloud at their last meeting, right before they took the vote that finally passed their water restriction plan. Well, what do you know? Unbeknownst to me, I must have sent out one of those little ripples we have talked about. Cool!

AND THE WINNER IS...

MUSINGEGRET!!! Congratulations! Now if you would just send your mailing address to me at becky.lane(at)vownet(dot)net, I will pop your prize in the mail.

And what is her prize? The lovely book Simplify Your Life: 100 Ways to Slow Down and Enjoy the Things That Really Matter, by Elaine St. James. This little tome was published in 1994, right at a time when many of us were beginning to realize that all of these modern conveniences, super gizmos, supposedly shorter work weeks, and round the clock shopping had not really delivered on the luxurious life of ease, and smiling, happy families, that the ads had promised us. If anything, we were more frazzled, and had less time for those we loved, than ever before.

As I mentioned earlier, before one can continue on this path towards good living, it is sometimes necessary to clear the path of weeds and debris, so that you can really see where you are going. I think this is just the book to help you do that. St. James believed that the more complex life becomes, the more people crave simplicity. As she and her husband worked to alter their life's path, she took note of all that they learned, and put it here in this book. Not every suggestion will work for every family, but you are bound to find many that will, such as reducing the clutter in your life, leaving your shoes at the front door, getting rid of your lawn, building a simple wardrobe, not answering the phone just because it's ringing, getting out of debt, reducing your need for goods and services, working where you live and living where you work, getting rid of the exercise equipment and taking a walk instead, giving up on trying to change people, keeping a journal and doing one thing at a time.

As I glanced back through these chapters, I was quite startled at how very many of these suggestions - ideas that seemed so startling and contrary to what was the norm back then - have now been absorbed and incorporated into my everyday life. Pick up this book, and read your way to a simpler, more satisfying life.

P.S. Many thanks to blog.onourwayonline.com for the above image.

GOING, GOING...

Speak now, or forever hold your peace - the drawing is tomorrow morning!