Because my brain is so often huffing and puffing its way through an editing gauntlet, one of the things I look forward most to on my day off is . . . nothing. Well, no, not nothing; that would boring, and then I’d become restive, which is a fancy word for twitchy, which isn’t pretty–at all. The nothing I speak of is more of minimal something, requiring very little of me cognitively:
Whether you’re the kind of woman who enjoys rolling up her flannel sleeves and plunging her hands straight into the mulch, or the kind who prefers to don a lovely apron and whip up something delicious, or maybe a little of both, I believe one facts stands true in all cases: women love to do things with their hands. We start to display signs of creativity from a very early age and, if nurtured properly, develop a wondrous and deep appreciation for the “labor of love.”
However . . .
Reno’s can be exhausting, overwhelming, and sometimes, after all is said and done, — time, money, and energy you will never, ever see again — what you end up with is hours spent in hard labor is a valuable lesson learned. Oh, and a strange, sort-of-looks-like-the-picture restoration that you plan to immediately hide in the back of a drawer or closet because, as hideous as the thing is, you worked tremendously hard on the thing and cannot bear to put it where it really belongs. IE: the trash. I’ve been there, believe me.
Some of us are naturals in the kitchen, garden, home, etc . . . We need do nothing more than think a pretty thought and the idea descends upon us with all the alacrity of a bee to a pollen-plentiful flower. Unfortunately, not ALL of us are born with Martha Stewart’s genes, so we must improvise and cheat a little. A mishap is fine from time to time, but if we are to succeed and improve, we first need a little confidence and ripe opportunity.