Make It Work

I am noticing more and more that I'm turning into my mother.  I say something to my kids and can hear her voice in my head as the words come out of my mouth.  And I'm okay with that!

I got further evidence that I'm very much like her this morning.  I got home from dropping Miles off at school and decided to prune the tree in the front yard.  I lopped-off what I could and, when I couldn't find the pruning saw, I used a flat, double bladed Japanese saw used for cutting joinery flush (or something like that).  It got the job done, but only after one smashed finger and a knick on my hand from the blade. 

My mother has had, and taught me, the "make it work" philosophy long before Tim Gunn ever thought of it.  If there's a job you want done, do it.  Don't have what you need?  Get it, or make something else work.  If you have the wrong tool, but it works, use it.  Get the job done.  And do it well. 

We did a lot of projects over the years.  We built stairs off her back deck; tore out a wall in her laundry room; replaced a tub, several sinks, and many toilets; hung drywall; laid tile; tore out wallpaper; hung wallpaper; and painted gallons and gallons of paint.  And that's just the home-improvement stuff. 

And we've had numerous personal injuries!  Fell off ladders, smashed fingers, smashed shin, black eye, wood spinters shot into fingers at high velocity, finger caught in blower... I'm sure there are more.  (I KNOW there are more!)  But, in the end, we healed and the job got done. 

Now, I'd like to climb on the roof and prune another tree, but John probably won't let me.  But that's another blog post.

Admonishment

This is actually John's story, but I felt it needed to be posted.

Elise was playing with her "friends" (plush Mickey, Minnie, Daisy, Donald, Goofy and Pluto) in the living room the other day and had them sitting on the sofa.  Miles came in and sat down next to them.  Elise commenced yelling at him, telling him he was not allowed to sit next to her friends.  John told her that Miles was allowed to sit on the sofa, and if she didn't want her brother to sit by her friends, she'd have to move them.  So she did.  While she was moving them over to a chair, Miles started kicking Donald.  This, of course, didn't go over very well with his little sister.  She began yelling "NO!" at him and telling him to stop.  Then she said, "This is why you don't have any friends!"