for years “ten-cow” has been a joke between my friend, catherine, and myself. back in the days of junior high we were introduced to an old fable – johnny lingo. the details of the story have faded as the years have gone on, but the real moral has stayed with me. what i recall goes
as follows:

in a village there was a woman who was rather, ahem, unfortunate looking. her parents worried that she may never get an offer of marriage but determined to overcome her odds this pathetic woman kept to herself and worked. she became skilled at keeping a home, cooking and other things required to be a good wife. at the time it was customary to present the bride’s parentswith a dowry. farm animals, cows in particular, were very honorable gifts and suitable for a dowry. well. the homely woman had become so skilled she became “beautiful” to a prospective husband and he offered her parents EIGHT COWS. this was unheard of and much more than even the most beautiful woman in the village had received.

oddly enough, i have always had an interest in cooking, organizing, creating, fixing… things cat calls, “old woman stuff.”

i was the oldest teenager/23-year-old i knew. by the time catherine and i moved into our first apartment during college it had been established that i was, indeed, a ten-cow woman. i had mastered creme brulé and the chocolate chip cookie, owned a large variety of kitchen appliances (every self-respecting cook needs an asparagus steamer) and had an artistic knack.

unfortunately, the ten-cow status did not protect me from scrutiny at the hands of my loving critics. i lived in constant risk of losing my celebrated title. the day i washed our yellow bathroom towels with the red rugs… that was not ten-cow behavior. the new orange-tinted towels hung in our bathroom as a reminder of what i had done. even now, the discolored cotton is an embarrassing reminder of the mistake that once demoted me to seven-cow. do not worry. through hard work and many batches of bribery-laced cookies, i have been reinstated to ten-cow. i have learned not to take the status for granted or let my skills deteriorate through carelessness.

this blog is dedicated to my struggles, my victories, and my life as a ten-cow.