Goddess of the Week: Holda

Captioned as "Holda, die gütige Beschüzer...Image via Wikipedia

In light of my traumatic dust bunny invasion, I have claimed this week's goddess. She is Holda, the Germanic goddess who overseas women's domestic tasks.

Here's a story about her:

Once there was a mother and two daughters. Everyday one of the daughters -- the good daughter -- would go outside and spin her flaxseed into linen over by the well, while the other daughter slurped up caramel frappachinos at the nearby Starbucks.

One day, the good daughter pierced her finger while spinning and accidentally dropped her spindle into the well. Knowing that her mother would disown her for her carelessness, the good daughter threw herself down the well to die. But -- HA -- Holda found her and took her to her house. There, Holda tested the good daughter in all manner of domestic tasks. When the good daughter proved industrious and obedient, Holda covered the good daughter in gold and sent her home to her mother.

The frappachino-slurping daughter got totally mad. "Why does she get to be covered in gold?" She asked. "What about me? Why don't I ever get anything good? It's not fair." And she jumped down the well to find Holda.

Well, she found Holda all right. The sister was all, "How come you like my sister better than me? How come you gave her all that cool stuff? How come you live in a well? It's really wet down here, you know that? Plus, it's cold."

Holda said, "Spin, maiden."

The sister said, "Ok." And she twirled in circles.

Holda said, "Sweep up these viperous dust bunnies, and absorb their minion dust particles in this rag.

The sister said, "Don't you even have cable?"

So Holda covered the girl in tar and sent her back to her mother with a note that said, "I would advise you to hone this one's administrative and managerial skills. It's your only hope."

Holda teaches us that women who spend three days staring down viperous dust bunnies before actually getting out the vacuum should not expect any rewards when they are finished. They should definitely not expect their modeling of poor housekeeping skills to inspire their children in any positive way. And they should absolutely not think that said vacuuming absolves them from dusting or cleaning toilets.

For, indeed, as I bent said dust bunnies to my very will this morning, as I sent them fleeing from the house, I heard them murmer: "We'll be back! And we'll be more powerful than before."

Holda -- who I begged for helped -- told me she would only chip in if I developed some sort of regular cleaning system. A regular cleaning system.

I just...well, I couldn't commit.


So she left. And the toilets are still dirty.

Channel Holda: If you are a better person than I. Believe me: the tar, not such a great fashion look.

Need a goddess: I'm your gal! Post a comment and I will find you what you need. Or -- hey -- maybe you want to give someone a goddess! I can do that too! Just let me know.

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Desiree said...

OH! Hysterical!
However, I'm with the bad daughter, and keen on outsourcing certain domestic tasks...

Olga said...

I love your story telling ability--envy it, but love it.

altadenahiker said...

Actually, I had planned to pass this one to Vanda. But you need it more.


Margaret said...

AH: I actually made that sound when I looked at my bathtub while wearing my glasses.

Margaret said...

Dez: I'm too cheap to outsource so I just wallow in filth.

Olga: Thank you!

Daisy said...

:-D The heck with it ... dust bunnies rule!

Em said...

Lovely! This was so fun. (And I so relate!)

Rois said...

A friend of mine has a postcard that reads " A clean house is a sign of a wasted life." or something like that.

Shell Sherree said...

Trust a Germanic goddess to oversee the excellence of chores. {I guess this part of my bloodline could account somewhat for my general lack of dust bunnies.}

Deb said...

LOVE this, Margaret. As I got to the end of your post I started imagining you covered in tar. LOL Thing is, I'd be right there with you. MY sister would be the one covered in gold...although SHE has a house keeping service. :o}

Pasadena Adjacent said...

after your through with Holda, send her my way. I too wallow in filth

Stacey @ Entropified said...

This is a great one, Margaret.

Have you ever seen Totoro? Aren't the dust bunnies little spirits? And cute?

Susan C said...

I LOVE living in a clean, uncluttered house, but I hate to do the work myself.

... daisy... said...

Holda wouldn't stay with me either... believe me! :-DDDDD

Petrea said...

Too, too funny.

And I'm just like Susan C. I want it to be clean all the time but I have better things to do. As soon as I make more money I'll be hiring someone to clean. And as soon as I make more money than that I'll be hiring a cook.


Star said...

If there's no one else waiting in the "I need a goddess" list, I really need a "put your head down to the wind-keep on keepin' on-you can do it-this, too, shall pass-there's light at the end of the tunnel" kind of goddess. Thanks so much for your blog. It's fun *and* inspirational.

Margaret said...

Star: Thanks for the request. You're in the queue.

Jean Spitzer said...

Yes, the regular part of cleaning is the catch. Love the story.

Anonymous said...

Yeah, the Ohanneson/Axelrods are going to start assigning regular household chores any day now. ANY DAY, I tell you.

Luckily, I look better in chic black than in tacky gold.

Great post as usual, Margaret.

pasadenapio said...

It's good to have your own goddess! I so appreciate the one you found for me.

Paula L. Johnson said...

I actually like cleaning my little house when I have an uninterrupted block of time and an iPod full of great time.

So right now, my dust bunnies can kick your dust bunnies' butts.

gaelikaa said...

Oh, Margaret, she would have covered me with dust. I am the least domesticated woman you ever met, much to my Indian ma-in-law's chagrin. She wants a daughter-in-law on her knees scrubbing the kitchen floor for the third time that day. If it gets a sweep from me once a day it's lucky.