still to be neat

there is a metamorphosis i undergo daily. every evening, around 5:30, as soon as I pull up into the driveway of our cottage, a change begins to come over me. at first, it is emotional. the day begins to shed off me. all the worries, stresses, deadlines, and anxieties that manage to creep their way into my soul during the work day begin to melt. this change is strengthened into full force when pablo greets me at the door. it's so hard to focus on any.single.negative.thing when a fifteen-pound fluffball is freaking out over you-just you. just the sight of my feet at the door is enough to send him into such a tailspin that i often have to cradle him in my arms, whispering calm down, for fear his heart might beat too hard.

but once inside, the real change comes. my first step is to slip out of my high heels. home is no place for heels. i quickly head to the bedroom and put them away, trading their hardness for warm socks. then the slacks come off, then the buttoned-down shirt, replaced instead with sweatpants and a hoodie. and i spend my evenings bundled up in a decidedly unsexy, but totally comfortable mass of cotton and drawstrings. and it's not just at nights. sometimes i do this on weekends as well. last weekend, robert and i went away for a few days so he could run in his half marathon. and i forgot my makeup bag. just plain left it at home. so i went with it. i threw my hair into a bun and rocked the bare face look all day. for some reason that seems silly now, i kept apologizing to robert for my appearance. sorry babe. i know this is a big day for you. sorry i look like i don't care.

then he told me he loved me best this way. in fact, his words were "you should do this all the time. it's beautiful." what a freeing thought. what a completely, totally amazing thing. of course i still dress up and play with makeup. i'm a girlie girl and will always love the imagination and glamour that femininity affords. but it's nice to know that i can also pull on my high school sweatshirt, toe socks and leggings, and feel just as feminine.

this is my favorite poem in the world, written by ben jonson.

  Still to be neat, still to be dressed,
    As you were going to a feast;
    Still to be powdered, still perfumed:
    Lady, it is to be presumed,
    Though art's hid causes are not found,
    All is not sweet, all is not sound.

    Give me a look, give me a face
    That makes simplicity a grace;
    Robes losely flowing, hair as free:
    Such sweet neglect more taketh me
    Than all the adulteries of art;
    They strike mine eyes but not my heart.  

before his wife was "neat" or put together, he so admired her. before the makeup, the tights, the hairspray. when sweet neglect flowed all around her, that's when she was most attractive. i just love that. home is made for comfort. for dancing on wood floors together and curling up on the sofa. it's for lying in the morning, watching the sunrise, and for lying at night talking in the dark. i'm thankful my home is the place where i can look like this:

and robert still loves me. i strike his heart.