An update from The Domestic Alien
It seems hardly any time since I posted my first welcome, not
knowing whether anyone would ever read it, or any of the stories I’d share through http://www.thedomesticalien.com. Since then I’ve been blown away by the growth not only in the number of readers, but also the number of countries they come from—42 as of today, and counting—and with an extraordinary surge from the soccer nations around and following the 2014 World Cup. Domestic alienism must be a universal phenomenon!
So thank you all for being the readers a writer is there for. I’ll try to be a tad more prolific, to give you more to get your teeth into, and I look forward to receiving your feedback. Feel free to post comments—I’m always happy to hear your thoughts on the pieces or themes—and if there’s a particular topic you’d like me to tackle, please let me know. Just don’t ask me for a cookie menu … that’s one department I’m sure to disappoint in. But telling stories … yeah, I can do that. It’s getting me to stop that poses the challenge …
Thanks again, and catch you soon.
Best,
While you’re here, why not check out the latest story at https://thedomesticalien.com/latest-story/ or some of the older ones at https://thedomesticalien.com/older-stories/
PS – you can also contact The Domestic Alien via her Facebook page, where she also shares photos and musings not found on this blog. Just paste https://www.facebook.com/TheDomesticAlien into your Facebook browser to start joining the fun!
22 July 2014
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A welcome from The Domestic Alien
I’m Caitlin Moody and I’m not a cookie baker.
I write, I dream, I rant and rave, I plan, I laugh and cry. I even paint walls sometimes. And if I’m really desperate, there’s always housework. But I don’t bake cookies.
Once, in a moment of doubt over my unorthodox approach to wifedom and parenting, I asked my son whether my behaviour was inappropriate for a lady of my years.
“Well … you’re not like normal mums,” he said warily. “But that’s okay. If we want normal, we go to Dad.”
On hearing that, his father needed trauma counselling – calling a scientist “normal” is bordering on insult – but that’s another story. I, however, felt elated – like I’d been acquitted, even – and therefore free to continue with my unusual, if well-intentioned, ways as a domestic alien.
Hence this blog, where I’ll share my musings of the intriguing (if sometimes bumpy) road I tread in my desperate attempt to avoid baking cookies.
Hope to catch you soon.
Best,
The Domestic Alien 