Monday, June 22, 2009

For Just One Week

My nephews, aged 21 and 19, were talking about employment strategies. And when I say 'talking', this is only a vague use of the word. 'Snarking' might be a more realistic term. 'Kibbitzing' even more so.

The younger one, recently graduating from high school, is having a hard go of it. He has a job, but isn't getting enough hours. The older one, a cabinet maker, told him to just get in his car and drive around any of the construction sites that dot the landscape within their ever-expanding suburb.

'Any construction site', said N1, 'will have bitch jobs for you to do.'

Bitch jobs. Oh, how I love that phrase.

No sarcasm here. I really love that phrase.

In this particular context, I do not find it sexist in the least, just strangely apt. You are making someone your personal assistant to do all the icky things that you keep putting off.

This got me to thinking...

One of my friends owns a small working farm. There is never a shortage of duties to be done, and almost continually, she has helpers called "Woofers". These fine people come to her via the W.W.O.O.F. - Willing Workers on Organic Farms. It's kind of like an international dating service for travellers who want free room and board in exchange for a bit of day labour and perhaps some edu-mack-ay-shun about the finer intracacies of organic farming. I assume that the organisation does all of the pre-screening; what you're left with is a young person who gets to see another part of the world while lending a helping hand.

So now I want to create a new service (mostly just for my own selfish use) - W.O.H.B .- World Organisation of House Bitches. I get positively giddy thinking of how much I could accomplish in a mere 7 days with someone who could paint, sew, cook, can, shop, garden, clean, and repair.

And to get to stay at vonBloggenschtern Manor? They should be paying ME.

Now if I can just get the wording down for craiglist... Suggestions?

2 comments:

Cormac Brown said...

I picked tomatoes in Italy for all of a day and a half. I hurt in places I didn't know could ache and my pants turned green from the insecticide. The second day I didn't even bother to come back from lunch, I respect everyone who can withstand that back-breaking work.

Baroness von Bloggenschtern said...

Count Cormac: Hmm. This does give me pause for thought, as being a vonB HB would perhaps be even more excruciatingly more back-breaking. I might have to rethink this a little. Thanks so much for the perspective.





OK, done thinking.

The soul-crushing duties remain!

 
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