Somewhere between Thanksgiving and Christmas I become aware of "Time-Passing". All those marvelous wonderful things I intended to accomplish are somewhat incomplete just like I left them from the year before. The bed gets made up about 80% of the time not much of an improvement over last year's 75%. The dishes go from the table to the sink to be scrubbed a little before entering the dishwasher. That may not be an improvement as much as a change in routine. My friends have convinced me that dishwashers were made for that purpose. I have been told that dishwashers can become dysfunctional from lack of use as much as from overuse. I would like to be able to say that clean tables, clean sinks and clean kitchen floors were a matter of daily accomplishment, but I would have to add probably 75% of the time.

There is, also, the matter of that little place called the OFFICE. That was of course the SWAMP formerly known as OFFICE. For a brief period it was clean and there were those tempting moments when chairs were empty and little tables were empty and there was a place for every little thing and every little thing was in its place. That would probably account for a brief 10% time span. At this point in time the swamp has been deluged with items moved from the bedroom to the swamp to be reorganized once the bedroom renovation was complete. Grandmama made me aware of the problem.

Das is wo der Hase im Pfeffer liegt." The phrase does not make any sense when translated into English. "That is where the hare lies in the pepper". Marinated rabbit is also known as HasenPfeffer. Rabbit snares were illegal in the previous century. Only the Lord of the manor had legal hunting privileges. Briefly speaking, getting caught with illegal game could have dire consequences. Grandmama has access to my life at all times.

"Would you like to visit Cousin Anneliese?" I suggest. But Grandmama just made that funny little noise that was an absolute NO. "What for?" she says. "Her lifestyle is orderly. There is nothing exciting going on."

And now I know why Gradmama spends so much time in my own private little swamp. "You mean to tell me that Anneliese doesn't have a swamp?"

"She wouldn't dare. Chaotic swamps are not permitted in the Fatherland, at least not for the Hausfrau."

Whenever Grandmama pursues that topic, I can't help but smile. I don't even have to say it out aloud. Maybe that was just one more reason for leaving the Fatherland. This wonderful America does allow me to be the person that I am. It's that little thing called Freedom. And how I love my freedom.

Just for the record. Before the Christmas decorations go up, before the celebration begins and before the family gathers, I shall have to clean the swamp, make up the bed, dust and mop and polish, in short be the proper Hausfrau that I am usually not. Come to think of it. A Christmas party is an excellent motive for cleaning house.

"Good idea," Grandmama whispers,"Why don't you make that your New Year's Resolution. Give a party once a month. That should keep the place in order for a whole year."

Before I could respond, she'd gone away. I don't believe the grand dame has to worry about that. The success rate of my resolutions is close to 25%.