The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1940-04-25
By KATHLEEN NORRIS

OMETIMES a dreadful dizziness
comes into married life, for the
~ woman Not illness, not trou-
BILE, not money worry, but just in
sufferable dullness.
Life for Betty goes on without eX-
citement, without thrill. The kitch-
en- routine proceeds placidly; the
children go to school; Ed comes
home and has his dinner and goes
out to his lodge meeting Betty
helps the boy and girl with home
work, turns on the radio, yawns,
mends a sweater and then decides
to go to bed.
Sometimes this even flow of un-
eventful days frightens an intelli-
gent woman. Earthquake, flood or
fire might horrify her, but at least
they would find her active, ade-
quate, swept off her feet in the sud-
den new demand. But monotony
scares her. She remembers other
days, eager joyous days of girlhood,
dances, laughter, the glory of her
engagement and marriage, the fun
of showing off the new house, of
telling her friends that she and Ed
were expecting a baby. The baby's
coming, too, was an occasion never
to be forgotten; the furry of getting
him started; the happy, wearying
absorption in his needs, and the
needs of the second baby. All this
might have been firing, anxious, re-
sponSible, but it was satisfying and
triumphant, too.
Ten Years Later.
But now, 10 years married, with
the thirties beginning to slide by,
with Ed taking everything quietly
for granted, and only articulate
when dinner isn't satisfactory or
little Ned sleeps too late in the
morningS-now comes a pause.
And somehow the wife and mother
knows that it is a dangerous pause,
and that something must be done
about it or it may have lasting and
serious results.
Floyd leaves the house at eight
thirty" writes a Kansas wife. ST
go to the door with him and kiss
him good-by. Then I get the two
boys off for school, and turn back
into my quiet house for morning
dust, planning of meals. At noon I
have cup of soup or matted milk
and sandwich, and afterward lie
down and rest for awhile. Then
perhaps shopping, a movie, club
meeting, hospital call.
''At five, I am occupied in the
kitchen, with the table to set. Floyd
is home, and there is quiet talk of
what he did all day and what did,
not either interesting or important
to either hearer, and then we settle
down to evening paper and radio,
or, on rare occasions, have guests
for dinner and bridge-very poor
bridge all round, with nobody sure
of the scoring-or Floyd goes out
and I am alone.
Goes On-No Change.
Everything pleasant, friendly,
just as it was last year and will be
next year. Our income is small,
but enough, we all have good health,
4OGSLlOIlo VI OQOSCt dllQ d1lOWdIlCG
were long ago adjusted. My hus-
band is a trusted employee in a
rubber firm; his salary is $3.50 a
week. Recently he asked for a
weekly raise of $3.50 and was re-
fused. It would have made some
difference to us, but not an impor-
tant one.
"What can I do to make our
lives more exciting and glamorous?
am a home woman; I know I
should be more than satisfied with
what I have. But I'm not. I'm
restless and bored. Floyd's people
are straight American. My grand
father was a general In the Spanish
army 80 years ago; my mother
Swedish. Is it the mixed blood that
makes me at once shy and eager?
did not speak English until I was
eight years DID,"
The obvious answer to Lola is that
she has more now than nine-tenths
of the women of the world have,
and that ninety-nine hundredths of