Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Eighth grade all over again


Every year or so I take a picture of our apartment, as a way to document what happens to it as we remodel, redecorate, and upgrade the furnishings. It's kind of fascinating to watch the place change over the years, as we've settled in and put our own signatures on this place.

Part of the reason why it's taken so long is because we're exceedingly fussy about what we want, and part of the reason for being so fussy is because we don't have much space (or money) to keep trying. The other reason is because our local Gamma (scaled down Home Depot) is irritatingly far away and expeditions to it need to be planned well in advance.

These past couple weeks have taken me back to my middle school years, as we learned how to sew, use a jigsaw, pour molten aluminum, and make pizza, while trying not to looke like we cared (because it wouldn't be cool). Drafting a design, doing the math, cutting the pieces, figuring out how to put it all together, praying the math works out...and when it does, and when you see the final product, life is beautiful. Still.

I'm not delusional enough to think that I could ever be a master craftswoman--our curtains stay up and my skirts stay on and the shelves are standing, but I don't have any Fingerspitzengef├╝hl for these things. But it does make me wonder whether we'll ever go back to those days when people who worked with their hands were respected for the skills they had, rather than disparaged for the knowledge they didn't.

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