Anyone up for a Commune?

The other week I conducted an experiment. I left a laundry basket full of clean clothes on the stairs. I wanted to see how long it took for my husband to notice it and carry it up. It was an experiment that could only end in tears. My own. It has taken me 42 years to accept that some men just aren’t built to notice laundry baskets or decaying fruit or crayon marks on doors and that’s ok. Before you admonish me with shouts of ‘you’re letting him off the hook’ or you’re ‘mothering him’, I’m not, I promise. We each have our strengths. I have no interest in cutting the grass or feeding the lawn so is like a green velvet carpet – I do like to lie luxuriously on it on a sunny day with a cold glass of white wine that I also don’t keep stocked. We each have our area of expertise in the house and I’m working on being calmer and accepting that (the stocked wine fridge helps).

But that week while I sat staring at the basket day after day, I did wonder if there was something to be said for a women-only commune.

I’ve long harboured dreams of being older and moving in with a friend of mine to read books, cook pasta and discuss limescale remover.

We recognise that we might be desirous of male, em, company from time to time and we’ve agreed to engage a gardener to tend the bushes as necessary. I’ve another group of friends who plan to move to the south of France for their retirement and eat fat, juicy, ripe figs that fall from the trees and flirt with young waiters.

It seems that as women have always been told that we’ll outlive our partners our fantasies turn to happy days in our dotage spent with female company and young men.

But when I asked about my female fantasy world on Instagram it was a 60/40 split on wanting to join one. 60% loudly, vocally, sadly, said not a chance. There were comments about bitchiness, about missing men, about period syncing and about women being really hard work. All from women, which made me a bit sad. But period syncing aside – I went to an all-girls convent school, once you experience both your friends and nuns having their periods at the same time you’ll never doubt the science of syncing again – I guess my dream commune involved women all over 40, who are passed the gossiping in the loos stage of life, living harmoniously in the Kerry mountains, reading books, drinking Lorge hot chocolate and hand making pasta.

There have been famous women-only communes throughout history, probably the most well-known of which was Womyn’s Land which was formed in the US in the 1960s. It started as part of the counterculture movement during the flower power era and was predominantly made up of lesbians seeking a refuge from mainstream society. The collective used women-centric language like Herstory instead of history and Landdykes instead of lesbians to reflect the back to the land ethos of the group. Offshoots of Womyn’s Lands were established throughout the states and were at their peak in the 1980s but now just a couple remain as women no longer feel the need to escape from prejudice and misogyny as much anymore - though, under the current president, there have been moves to re-establish some of the communities.

And look, it’s true, I’d miss my husband and we all know that fantasies can turn sour pretty quickly but if the pandemic has shown us anything it’s that living in a mini commune, both single-sex and mixed, is something that could actually become the norm in the future. As single parents and working couples struggled with homeschooling, summer holidays, work and everything else this year communal living could have been the answer to that.

I have a friend in the UK who bubbled up with three families so that the children could play together and there would always be an adult free for childcare. They lived on the same street, their children were friends, and everyone was trying to work. After two weeks of quarantining and hideous Zoom playdates, they decided that they would form an extended family commune. One parent would be free each day to mind children while the others worked. Two out of five adults were designated supermarket shoppers to keep outside contact to a minimum and instead of online quizzes, there were other real-life adults to socialise with. It was a genius idea. It kept both married couples from killing each other and the single parent from losing herself to loneliness.

It’s how the world used to operate when things were smaller and closer to us all. The last six months have been a shitshow of the highest order. But in that, there have been positives. Everyone has suddenly realised that Ireland is bloody beautiful, and you can holiday here happily, even in the rain. We’ve been shopping more locally both for food and for gifts. We’ve gotten closer to friends and family even though we couldn’t be physically near, checking in on loved ones who might be scared or lonely or just plain fed up.

We’ve started sea swimming or gardening or walking to keep fit and mentally healthy. We’ve had family movie nights and convoluted murder mystery game nights. And yes, some nights we’ve just cried into a glass of wine because that’s what that day needed.

I don’t know when this period of our lives will be over. If like me in Kildare, the whole country will be back in lockdown for winter or if we just need to accept that the world is different now and we must change our behaviours to match it.

But I do know that if there’s even the smallest bit of advance warning next time, I’m forming a bubble and bringing all my most-loved into it with me.

There is a lot to be said for a commune.

Jennifer Stevens, August 2020.

What do you think dear reader, like the idea? Tell us in the comments!