Thursday, November 5, 2009

A Fantasy

Today a new blog friend is joining us. Welcome Marion:

I walk dog in the morning by this really swanky neighborhood near where we live – we’re not in the swanky part, we’re on the edges of the swank. The houses here are just jaw-dropping; they are beautiful old elegant places that are well, enormous.

This morning as I walked by one house, I felt huge green-monster size envy. Not so much about the house, but what was going on in front of the house. At this house, the housekeeper was showing up for work. Wearing a uniform.

A housekeeper. All along the rest of my walk I fantasized about what life would be like if we had a housekeeper.

In my mind, I saw Hazel, the housekeeper from the sixties TV show that I’d watch in reruns. Hazel called her family Mr. B and Mrs. B, and I’d want our housekeeper to call us that, too, though it would be nice if I was Mrs. W-B. She’d be warm and lovely, great with our daughter, and a good listener. Her overall mission though, would be to keep our house in order. Ship shape, immaculate.

With Hazel in our lives, I can see how the day would unfold. I’d come home from my walk, hand Hazel the leash, and then take seat at the dining room table, where I would join my husband and daughter for breakfast. We could have breakfast at the dining room table because the laundry that usually occupies the dining room table would all be folded and put away – thanks, Hazel!

For breakfast, Hazel would set out bowls of steaming oatmeal and refill our coffee – but not too dark, the right balance of milk and coffee, just the way we like it. While we eat, Hazel would share her wise observations on the day’s events. She’d clear the breakfast dishes and they would stay gone - we wouldn’t have to see them again when we return at the end of the day.

Then we’d get dressed in whatever we like because the clothes that have been on holiday at the dry cleaner have now been picked up by Hazel and are hanging – plastic wrap off – in our closet. The laundry that is usually resting in the washing machine getting a moldy smell has completed its full round and has emerged fresh from the dryer. Everyone has two socks that match. Bliss.

Then we’d all go off to work and school while Hazel went to the grocery store, the wine store, the tailor, the vet, the post office, and any other errand I could think of that would be productive but not overwhelming. If we were lucky, perhaps Hazel is dating a butcher the way Alice was in The Brady Bunch. While she flirts, she could get us a nice piece of meat for dinner.

At the end of the day – my new favorite part of the day because of Hazel - I would come home to the smell of a delicious dinner cooking on the stove. Hazel greets me at the door, takes my brief case and hands me a lovely chilled glass of chardonnay. Over cocktails, my husband and I have witty banter ….

…Snap back to reality. I return home from the dog walk to find my husband emptying the dishwasher. I tell him about the housekeeper dream and he grumpily dismisses it, saying we have too much clutter for a housekeeper. We then get in a disagreement about the scope of responsibility of our imaginary housekeeper. My daughter comes out of her room to tell me she has no clean socks. The dog paws at my leg asking to be fed. The day begins.

But someday Hazel. Someday we’ll be together.

Marion Williams-Bennett can be found @Create Joy and Wonder
The original post ran here


Ann On and On... said...

It's good to have a creative imagination. Just pretend to see her and start talking to her...your husband will think you've gone crazy and get you one because you are over worked and loosing your mind. :D What do you think? Have a great day!

Adan said...

i do the exact same thing!!!!

glad to see someone else out there is also does the same thing.

Marion Williams-Bennett said...

I love Ann's idea, though I may take it step further and say things like "oh, Hazel's on that..." As in, are there clean socks? Oh, Hazel's I think Hazel is working on that!

Thank you Quarter Thrower, for helping me to see the sanity in this!

Vodka Logic said...

I remember that show.. I like the idea too, as long as she minds her own business..

Cyndy said...


Very fun post! I have often thought that of what I could accomplish if there was someone taking care of ME! There's my career, of course, but even on a domestic level I think I could achieve the levels of Martha Stewart and still have time to learn new things.

Instead, I, too, am pairing socks instead of paring pears for an incredible torte ~ am quickly piecemealing dinner before taxing kids to practice instead of creating world peace.


Big Blue House said...

I loved your post also. You imagined it just right. Too bad your husband doesn't have the same vision but he WAS emptying the dishwasher! Don't call him Hazel, as he might not help out again. Good luck to your dream coming true. You know what they say, If you can dream it,it will come. That means you can work towards that goal every day.

Marion Williams-Bennett said...

It makes me happy that you remember Hazel, Vodka Logic! I thought I was dating myself by watching black and white TV! And yes, Hazel needs to be warm and personable, but to too much, not too close!

Cyndy – I love the pairing analog – I too would put the time wasted pairing socks into some brilliant dinner, alas, it’s Trader Joe’s Orange Mandarin Chicken, again!

And I am encouraged by Big Blue House ! Indeed, if I can dream it…!

Thanks for all the warm comments! - it is so great to visit here, such wonderful followers!

Tracie said...

That's my kind of fantasy!

Kristina P. said...

Does Hazel have a friend to come to my house?

Deb said...

My fantasy includes a male and female Japanese couple. They live in the quest quarters. He is a fantastic chef that prepares delicious fresh healthful cuisine from the garden he tends in our greenhouse. She is a trained masseuse as well as a fabulous housekeeper. He practices Ti-Chi with Husband and is an excellent dog trainer. My beasty boys are now very well behaved. Sigh! I have a great fantasy life!