27th June 2019
We were desperately trying to finish a dresser to take to the new space. Kelli was trying to decide what knobs to fit. One idea was to make them out of old wooden cotton reels. I mocked one up, “Nah!” She said. Next were some I was crafting out of wood. I had made six and was ready to make the last two. “Could you stain one dark?” I immediately did it. “Nah!” She said. It was as if someone had said to Michelangelo who had just finished his sculpture of David, “ It’s nice but I wanted an urn”
Eventually she settled on some knobs she had used on the old house that the landlord had returned, guess they were too outrageous for “normal” people. Still, we reused them to great effect.
When we got to the store and unloaded the dresser, I wandered around looking at pieces other vendors had supplied. I rub my hand across the top surfaces of the various dressers, desks and tables and gauge how smooth they are compared to ours. This is important to me(in a smug way) it is a feeling of quality, and it gives me a feeling of inner most joy when I scrape my hand over a surface that is rougher than the sand paper I used.
I spent the evening painting the commission pieces, with the occasional distraction of weed collecting.
Since we got the composter, it has drastically reduced what we put in the bin. “How long before we can use the compost we make?” Kelli inquired.
I didn’t have a clue, most people who have them never use the compost, they just keep filling them up, the level never changes, it’s like they’re sitting above a sink hole.
“About five years I think” I eventually replied.
Kelli’s eyes rolled.
“By then we’ll have somewhere to use it on”.
Another Lifetime to go 