Carefully.

It's not about the lawn mowing, though I do believe I shouldn't be doing that kind of work.  Maybe it's cultural ... maybe it's how my wrists hurt today, my frame just wasn't designed for that load ... maybe I am spoiled.  None of that really matters ... it's about the un-doing of ... what?  You know ... you see stuff all the time, everywhere cause it's just life.  You see stuff that is messed up ... in yourself and in the things that are important to your heart ... and you just want to try your best to make them better.

Around the house, just like around life, stuff wears out ... or is carelessly broken, or maybe just accidentally, but broken none the less.
Maybe it will be as simple as getting in the jeep and driving over to the DIY store ... finding something better to plug that gaping hole in the wall.  Maybe there is a towel rack that will fit just right, or maybe I will have to fashion something ... .  I'm thinking about it, and I know there are other ways to approach the thing.  Lotsa options ... some probably even better then what I was hoping for.

Let's see ... I am making too big a deal about this ... because this isn't about that.  This isn't even about fixing or making something right.  I was looking forward to a right place somewhere else.  At the same time, I am happy for the opportunities to "right" the little things wrong or not quite right ... right here in this ole house.  My house.  But ... I feel like I'm the working at it all by myself.  I feel bad about that ... and it makes me want to go somewhere else.  But, I don't want to that either.

Sometimes we rent a place at the beach for a week or two.  It's like a vacation from one's own life ... 'cept you don't know where the light switches are and ... the kitchen never has the pans you like to use ... sometimes the dishes aren't complete and the table looks a bit forlorn and you are so thankful for all the nice things waiting at home ... no matter how it's advertised, the linens are never as nice as your own ... the towels aren't fluffy just in case some stinker decides to steal them I guess.  You are so so so happy to visit ... but you know you're a visitor ... this isn't the home that your life has built.  This isn't even about the house you are borrowing/visiting/renting, cause you're really there for the walks along the beach and all the delightful little distractions from your own life ... you are there because you need a little break.

So ... you come back to your own house with fresh eyes ... and you notice that the junk drawer is way too junky and there's lint collecting on the wall behind the dryer, and wouldn't that whole area like a refresh anyway ... you notice that there is room for another row of shelves ... and how about getting rid of those old phone books and flower vases that you never use.  And ... you get busy ... carefully sorting through it.

Carefully.  Sorting, tidying ... washing ... sanding ... painting.

It's important to me ... not the new paint, the life ... the lives lived as the house is built and maintained.  Making your place be a good place to be ... a place where you want to be.

And ... I'm tired of the shit falling out of my very careful hand and breaking in to pieces that can't, no matter how carefully,  be repaired.  And ... as much as I would like to think I can fix everything, the truth is ... I can't.

I can fix the towel rack though.  Pretty sure.