“These coppers, big and little, these brooms and clouts and brushes, were tools; and with them one made, not shoes or cabinet-work, but life itself. One made a climate within a climate, one made the days — the complexion, the special flavour, the special happiness of each day as it passed; one made life.”
~Willa Cather, Shadows on the Rock
And the making of life is no mean task; nor is it to be supposed that those who spend their days arranging the complexion, flavour, and happiness of days do so because they are unfit for anything else. No, surely there is much honor in the making of days; surely she who gave all the days of my growing up a pleasant flavour has great skill, and I am fortunate indeed to have benefited from her use of these tools.