
Sepia
It was another time, I knew. But something about the simple images screamed of order and delineated duty.
The character standing where I do, looking atop the combustion heater, knew how to wield these tools for maximum effect, to bring life, sustenance and pride to the family.
Am I trying to layer texture into her life that she did not seek? Was it a monochrome life yearning for the end of the rainbow, or one in which she was content with the familiar sepia tones?
Dare we allow it to be ‘he’ and not ‘she’?
For other fictioneer tales, see this link.
Clever and thoughtful.
Makes us wonder if we know anything of the past, our past.
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We may never know what the characte would have liked. Come to think of it, who does not like a little color in the life?
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Lots of men would Have known how to use all those implements, including the wood stove. Things were sorted by gender, back then, out of necessity. He could plow and deal with livestock because he was stronger (usually!). And she was already somewhat confined to house and yard by toddlers and new babies, and the housework fit with her abilities. I think it was easier, then, to discern “men’s work” and “women’s work.” I think most of our ancestors considered it “teamwork.” The lines have certainly changed and blurred in our day.
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And not always to everyone’s satisfaction. Too true.
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That’s an interesting thought, are we over-interpreting these old pictures and items? Are we romanticizing about things that were never there? Maybe not, there were diaries, and grandparents who told stories… Lovely writing.
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Precisely. Thank you for taking the time to read my story and provide a thoughtful response.
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This was a wonderful read, KZ.
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Thank you very much.
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Wonderfully written! Thanks for sharing and making us think.
~Donna
https://authorshutterbug.wordpress.com/
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I really appreciate you taking the time to respond.
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A beautiful reflection
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Thanks Neil.
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Dear KZ,
The lines have been blurred, haven’t they? Well written piece.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thank you, Rochelle.
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