I am ever so disinterested in exercises like sit-ups or lifting weights. I think I’ll mop my floor instead.
When it comes to exercise, I love thinking about pioneer women. Hard as nails. The one picture I have of Maggie Clementine, my great-grandmother, looks like I’d imagine these ladies of the plains. She’s in a dress, but it’s obviously just for the sake of the picture. It’s pretty wrinkled and her hair is down and combed so that it lays across her front. It’s hair that looks like it lives in thick braids and her husband talked her into letting it loose for the picture. I imagine that it’s amazing hair.
She’s lean and leathery and has a beautiful smile that beams out of a face squinched from working outdoors her whole life. I look at the tip to toe version of this picture and am amazed that she’s wearing shoes. I’m not amazed that they don’t even look dusty. They may be the first time she’s had them on.
I will bet you dollars to doughnuts that Maggie Clementine never did a sit-up in her life.
Time to mop.
Susan Scot Fry, Maggie’s great-granddaughter
Well, there’s sweat dripping off the tip of my nose. I am a mighty pioneer woman in a Swiffer generation. Especially the lavender scented ones.
(my great-grandmother is laughing right now.)