the shaping force of gender

There is more baking soda paste on the oven, we had Dominoes pizza again for tea (is that how to get more time - never cook?), the children and I had a fabulous day, the eczema improvements are starting to show (credit to my extensive use of the new laundry regime today plus more epsom salts and baking soda in the bath and of course acres of expensive emollient), the sick hedgehog is now the dead hedgehog and we have a new heater.

Eventually the children went to bed and to sleep.  I continued my transformation of a $2 Hoki op shop dress into a skirt.  It's not screaming elegant success, unhelped by my cheerful disdain for careful measurement (the centre seams no longer run through the centre of the skirt, front or back, but I am keen to se it through to something wearable.  Once again I have failed to match my stated desire for more work-friendly clothes with a commensurate care for detail.

But no matter.  Because as I sewed (the pinning and unpicking parts at least), I read Anne Else's doctoral thesis, On Shifting Ground: Self-narrative, feminist theory and writing practice.  So far, completely fascinating, and I'm only going to bed instead of reading further because I know I won't get all the way through tonight.  The introduction is heavy on academic speak, though not impossibly so.  I kept going and I'm glad I did.

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