“Let us go to an ordinary street to feel that life is beautiful with all the ordinary things, with cats around, with children playing, with laundries hanged out, with people wandering aimlessly!” Mehmet Murat ildan, Turkish writer
When I’m writing fiction, I purposely include scenes in which the characters are doing laundry or cleaning the oven or having a medical problem of some sort. Why? Because those are the scenes that often don’t get included in TV shows and most books — in spite of their reality. Mundane reality, but reality.
It’s true. Normal Americans — like normal human beings everywhere — especially don’t live like the people on “reality” television. Imagine it. Sitting around, contemplating one’s level of celebrity, plotting to get ahead of the pack. Normal people work, cook, sort socks, contemplate whether their income will cover their expenses in the given month.
And, there’s nothing wrong with that.
I thought of this the other day when I was putting away my straw purse for the fall and winter. Given that this was its fourth summer of use — fourth — I figured it would go in the trash at the end of the summer. Yet, when the time came, it was still in near perfect condition.
The only problem was the straps needed a cleaning after being in contact with my skin for so many warm-weather weeks. So, once again, a dip in a glass of soapy water did the trick. The purse is tucked away for another summer.
There wasn’t an ounce of glamour in the moment. The scene would never make a TV show. But, it made me happy. I like the purse. I enjoyed feeling competent. I liked the everyday beauty of sudsy soap in a glass on a sunny counter. I like not having to spend money for another purse.
It was a small joy, a real-life joy. I’ll take that over fantasy any day.