Chorely....NOT! from the Sunday Afternoon Rocking Series Jan Philpot   One has to be from the south to truly appreciate that title.  It is a play on the southern expression "Shorely not"...or in more appropriate grammer, "surely not".  But  Chorely....NOT! is exactly what I mean.  I have not had much luck with chores.   I grew up hearing my parents speak of their childhood chores.  My father worked the fields, slopped the hogs, all that farm business you hear from the oldtimers.  Add to that,  once his mother became bedridden when he was in his teens, being the only child left at home, he took over the household chores (without modern conveniences like electricity and running water) and also cooked for the farm hands using a *gasp* iron woodstove.  My mother apparently fixed meals for her family as soon as she was old enough to reach a stove.   That being the case, and my upbringing definitely being southern with a Victorian twist, one would expect me to be loaded down with chores.  Chorely...NOT!  My dad knew his way around a kitchen as well as my mother, and either that arrived home from work first had supper (a real one) on the table precisely at 5:00 PM and I was to stay out of the way.  Nor was I to clean up afterward.  I was to hit the books and do homework perfectly.  Saturdays were my only day for "chores".  I was to straighten and clean the house.  Thing was, my parents were so organized, right down to the color-coded closets, that there was little to do in that department except swish a dust cloth around and run a vacuum.  The only chore I remember that was a "bear" would be that of grass trimming around the house...with clippers the old-fashioned way because whoever heard of a weed eater in those days?  Now that could get hot and tiresome, but since I was asked to do very little and "because I said so" was the parental rule about all things, I did not complain.   My father's notion was that I was to be a doctor or lawyer and marry a senator.  Therefore, my "chore" was to be a perfect student.  Consequently I grew up knowing how to do next to nothing around the house and had to learn after I got out on my own.   Needless to say, I did not become a doctor or lawyer.  I became a teacher and artist with pay commiserate with the same.  And I most DEFINITELY did not marry a senator...about the opposite end of the spectrum, actually.   I decided my children would grow up with chores.  I listed them weekly and attached them to the refrigerator.  And did that work?  CHORELY NOT.  Oh ...the boys attempted.  And I walked into the kitchen one day to find myself ankle deep in bubbles extending from one wall to the other.  My son had loaded the dishwasher with dishwashing liquid all right.  I checked the mowing only to realize my stepson had mowed down three apple trees just planted that week.  He "didn't see them".  I checked the landscaping only to discover the boys had "weeded" my mums.   Sigh.  More luck with the girls, right?  Nada.  I only thought so at the time.  Once they were grown, my older daughter, in a giggling fit one day, told me how their room got cleaned.  She would yawn and stretch and say, "Oh, I wish a little elf would come in my sleep and clean my room like magic!"  She would pretend to nap and her little sister would clean that room spic and span to create the illusion that an elf had come!  Now was that a dirty trick, or what???  I finally found out why, abruptly in preteen years, the nicely organized room became a disaster.  Had nothing do do with any growing pains other than little sister had finally caught on and stubbed up.  CHORELY NOT!   I think I have finally figured out the way to get chores done.  My four year old granddaughter LOVES to come to Nana's and do chores.  I think it has something to do with the idea of doing everything together.  If Nana cooks, Serenity can't wait to have a bowl of something to stir.  If the flower beds need watering, Nana holds the can gently on the bottom and Serenity tips it, and "WE did it, Nana!"  If we clean her room at Nana's house, we clean it together and sing a little clean up song while we do it.  Last time she was here, she and I unloaded a trailerload of mulch, me with my big shovel and bucket, and her with a little bowl.  She squealed, "OH! I want to stay here forever, Nana!"  Imagine that.  Chorely I have finally figured out the "Chore Score"...CHORELY...YES!   (Note: Afternoon Rocking messages are meant to be passed on, meant to be shared...simply share as written without alterations. ..and in entirety. Thanks, jan) Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns are distributed weekly on the list Sunday Rocking. This is not a "reply to" list, and normally only one message per week will come across it, that being the column. To subscribe send email to Sunday_Afternoon_ Rocking-subscribe@yahoogroups. com   Order my new novel from Hearts on Fire books!  DREAM PAINTER is a time travel romance.  Check it out at: http://www.heartsonfirebooks.com/downloads.aspx?categoryid=26   Author website: http://jan-edmonds.com/