On feeling visible, or I do not work alone

My friend Rain once pointed out to me that most other people work with other adults, other witnesses, and they get to see one another's offices and go to meetings together. They get to see how different people do the same things, differently. Homeschooling moms, though, work alone for long stretches. We often work in groups, too. But not for 40 hours a week.

Sometimes, this makes me feel isolated.

Early this morning, feeling drunk on the first sunlight in a week, I snapped a picture of my fridge and tagged my blogging friends to do the same. As I was driving to co-op today, I thought, Hmmmm. That fridge thing is sort of personal. Seeing pictures of my peers' fridges was, surprisingly, incredibly intimate. Why is that?

This is an important aspect of my life, packed with emotional context and health consequences, and yet, one of the most isolating tasks I do. I call it foodage: the task of thinking about, preparing, serving, cleaning, storing, and re-serving delicious, nutritious, pleasing, healthful food to myself, my partner, and my children, at least three times a day, sometimes to-go.

I have lost things in my fridge, like a dozen Yorgo's Bagels, three tubs of homemade lentil soup, shrimp scampi, and five rotten pieces of ginger. Today I found something in my fridge: my sense of belonging to a community of working women, all of whom experience foodage in their own way. They have large bottles of katsup. They have edible flotsam in the freezer. They have miso and tofu and nuts. The have prolifically breeding condiments in their doors. They have animal food in their drawers. They have soda, chicken nuggets, cream cheese, and frozen prepared food. They have organic food that costs a small fortune. They have beer. In short, I AM NOT ALONE.

Gratitude to all the brave women who flashed their fridge and
to Mashi for taking over the grocery shopping.