TO-MORROW WAS ANOTHER DAY

New Zealand Listener, Volume 9, Issue 227, 29 October 1943, Page 17

TO-MORROW WAS ANOTHER DAY

NCE upon a time I read a book called, I think, Conflict with a God. The book described the efforts of a man to defeat the god Time. It became an obsession with him, and even in the smallest things he felt he must overcome Time, It is several years since I read the’ book, and I had forgotten all about, it, but recently I have been very much reminded of it. Once upon a time, too, I was an ordinary housewife. I cleaned the house, washed, ironed, mended, baked, sewed, gardened, and shopped, and altogether did most of the things (but not morning tea parties on a tea wagon with lots of different kinds of cake which Margaret Jepson wrote about in another book, Via Panama). I looked after -adequately, I hope-my husband and small daughter; I attended Red Cross lectures; worked on various committees; I read a lot of books-on crime, child psychology, diet; I read plays and most of the good new novels; I didn’t read much about world affairs, I got my husband to explain things to me. He liked doing it, and it was much easier for me + ++. an ordinary housewife. I seemed to have plenty of time to do everything in the house. If it rained on Monday I washed cheerfully on Tuesday. I gave the house a "do" on Friday if I could; if not, on Saturday. * * * HEN I had another baby. And my husband went into Camp. And a peculiar thing happened. I, nervous, worried and depressed, never very robust, caught the "Time" bug! The baby certainly was delicate, and needed about twice as much attention as an ordinary baby. I found that it took me two days instead of one to give the house a "do." And the washing didn’t seem ever to get finished. All right, I decided, I must have a system, a timetable. And stick to it. Wash Monday. Iron Tuesday. To town Wednesday. Clean up Thursday and Friday. Bake, sew, etc., at nights, That timetable dominated my life. It worried me to death. If it rained cats and dogs I must still wash the verandas down though the dog muddied them again five minutes later. My timetable said I must. If it was too stormy on Monday to hang out the washing I brooded and worried until I had a headache. My week was ruined! Time had stolen a march on me! But if I did have some time to spare during the day I couldn’t relax. I would clean the door handles or, polish the bathroom floor, or do some more of the baby’s washingjobs that really weren’t meant to be done until the following day. Then I stole a march on Time! It was terribly important. Then the next day, of course, having time to spare because I'd already done so many of that day’s jobs the day before, I did some of the next day’s work. It was very confusing tooand harrowing. If a visitor arrived unexpectedly it was a Tragedy. What could I do? My precious timetable! Visitors really were a Nuisance. They Wasted Time. And that was Criminal. ES % ae T was the Washing that worried me most. On Mondays with the extra cleaning from the week-end to do, it never seemed to get done. So I decided to wash on Sundays, when my husband is usually home and could help a little

with the baby. That didn’t work too well. I felt guilty about it, not so much for breaking the Sabbath -- though I had been brought up to believe that it is wicked to wash more than one’s face and hands on Sunday — but I felt it wasn’t fair to my long-suffering spouse. I’ll wash on Saturdays, then, I thought, and get it over before he comes home. I'll do something less drastic on Sundays.

Well, it was a terrific rush washing on Saturday, because of the baking and weekend shopping. After a few weeks I stole a march on myself (and Time!)by washing on Friday nights, so that all I had to do on Saturday mornings was hang out the clothes. This meant I could very often iron’ on Saturday afternoons and so have washing and ironing done before the weekend. Aha, Time, I had you there! Yet that wasn’t very successful either, for several reasons. One was that it invariably rained on Saturday morning, and there was the washing, very wet, in the tubs! Fridays and Thursdays were impossible — they were already very full days. Wednesday then. But Wednesdays proved impossible too. All the functions in my district seemed to take place on Wednesdays and my timetable was continually being upset. Tuesday was Plunket day with long discussions about the baby’s health and often a visit to the doctor as a result... . * % = OW it’s Monday and I’m feeling rather tired. I’ve just finished the washing. Was it this week’s, last week’s, or next week’s washing? I can’t tell you. And where do I go from here?

N.

M.