Domesticated
By: susan peterson stamis
Tags: art, bottle washer, chief cook, domesticated, foreign service, homemaking, kingston jamaica, pleaser, social security, song, state department, words
Category: Uncategorized
Judging from this 1956 stint at the kitchen sink, my desire to be a pleaser began pretty early in my little life. Busy making pies in the sandbox, pulling an egg out from under my indignant pet chicken, and feeding my baby dolls spoonfuls of my mother’s cold cream, early on I domesticated my inherent creative passions of art, song and words by rerouting them through the kitchen and molding them into the more practical application of homemaking.
I have no regrets of my long tour as Chief Cook and Bottle Washer. If I were given an opportunity to change my life, I wouldn’t do it. However, now an old woman, I struggle to fully accept that I no longer have anyone to feed.
Banging my pots and pans with my wooden spoons, maybe I can, with a great amount of joyful noise, beat a path out from the dark jungle of KP and into the bright sunlight of all the other things that I am.
I hope to find the answer before I head to the Social Security office next month.
4 comments on “Domesticated”
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About Me
My father was a Consular Officer in the United States Foreign Service. He was first stationed in post World War II Berlin, where I was born in 1950. Subsequently, we lived in the Philippines; Jamaica; Guatemala; Washington, DC; Greece; Ceylon and Mexico; visiting many places in between. I was reared by my parents and nurtured by the various amahs, nannies, and housemaids who, every two years or so, entered and exited my little life.
I was educated in American Schools in “foreign lands,” but the most fascinating classrooms were the exotic locales where we lived, and the most inspiring teachers were the colorful people of those exotic and ancient cultures.
The bi-annual “home leaves” which my family spent at my grandparents’ homes in Los Angeles, California provided a sense of constancy to our nomadic lifestyle. My many aunts, uncles and cousins lived there and I eagerly looked forward to those vacations. We were 1st and 2nd generation Greek Americans (all 4 of my grandparents had immigrated at the turn of the century), and thus had foreignness stamped onto us even though we were Americans.
Two of my father’s siblings were also in the diplomatic service, and we world-traveling cousins were a source of endless curiosity to our domestic counterparts when we came home speaking English with unusual accents, reducing the statesiders to hysterics.With his various cameras, Kodachrome, Ektachrome, 16 millimeter, Super 8 and Polaroid, my father rarely lost an opportunity to document the events unfolding around us. After years of waiting patiently in boxes under the stairs, these photographic records are now fulfilling their purpose as mnemonic retrievals of my little life.
Mnemonic Retrievals 
I pray you find the answer, as well. You are a beautiful multi-talented soul. 😘
You are ANYTHING but an old woman–Social Security notwithstanding! I’m looking forward to your next visit–we can take turns feeding each other, or better yet, going out to eat and letting someone else feed us!!😊💕
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Oh my…You serve with such style; love the 50’s fashion! I wish you joy and surprises on your journey of exploration. I look forward to your next entry:-)
Susan, you are a writer and artist from your heart. I value your sincerity beyond a million others. Your life is so much more than a SS check. I wish we could cook, paint & write together, or at least closer. Your spirit is the kind I fashion my own after.