“It doesn’t have a dishwasher, so we’ll have to wash
our dishes every day,” my son pointed out as he and his fiancée showed me their
new home.
Flashbacks of dish duty in kitchens through the years
spun through my mind, each one emphasized by a slap of a dishtowel as it hit my
shoulder. Snapping, swiping, slinging towels swished through my memory with a
soundtrack looping through country, Broadway, and camping songs. Giggles, downright disgusting noises, shouts
of frustration, belting choruses of choir songs, rounds discordantly mixed up
sending my sister and I into various stages of soppy soapsuds battles during
our supposedly simple task of dishwashing.
“Sometimes you can create fun memories as you wash
dishes together,” I silently smiled to myself.
Still in the throes of rapid recollections revolving
into my conscious, I leaned against the sink counter remembering how I’d squish
my towel towards the water puddles that always gathered and threatened to
overflow onto the floor. I turned to
follow along on the tour of the soon-to-be newlywed home, as my fingers
searched on my shirt for the faint memory of a damp spot on a well-worn apron conjured
from the afternoons I would spend with my Nana cleaning up after family
gatherings. Even with the protection of
one of her aprons, I often thought I would fall into her low, deep, double sink
as I sopped up splashes while assisting her in the time-old tradition of “doing
the dishes.”
Why has my mind wondered into the odd realm of
dishwashing as I ponder setting goals for my writing? Perhaps it is because this mundane task
represents how I should set priorities. Dishes
need to be cleaned or cabinets and drawers will become barren of necessary
utensils. Regardless of whether I use a keyboard or a manual pen and paper, I
need to daily attend to the writing task if I wish to prepare for the next time
the ideas gather for a period of “dining and delighting.”
Aligning “doing the dishes” with writing reaffirms
that it is a continual process, repeating itself over and over again, not
because it is something I hope to do, but because it is something I need to do. Finding the suitable place setting for the
venue at hand becomes my writer’s challenge.
At any rate, I am looking forward to delving into the
dishes that line my shelves, clutter up my counters, and threaten to fall to
the floor. Mind you I’m muddling up the
metaphors on purpose so that I remind myself that writing can be as much fun as
“doing the dishes.” Snap those ideas and
sling around those memories; soak hands into the muck and grease, slop around
until the squeaky clean shine makes its appearance. Lean forward without fear of toppling but
definitely enough to get wet.
“Do the
dishes,” every day.
To read Denise's personal blog and writing website go to: www.WalkingWithDustyandDee.com
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