My father would say, when working on some project or another, “You have to be smarter than the hammer.” You could take that a number of ways I guess but for me, it reduced the anxiety around the work being done. Those words gave the project a bit of perspective. Now, my dad was a bit famous for his improvised repair work. Ask my sister about the mud flaps he added to her car when she was a teenager. They worked, oh yes they did – but to an image conscious teenager enormous piano hinged flappy things on the back of her cute little car were a burden to bear. Mom and I were talking about family last night, and that conversation reminded me of these things.
I have seen enormously talented people become paralyzed by the perceived need for perfection. (I go the other way, I can be selectively blind to sloppy workmanship on my part just to get something done. There is of course a middle way with this.)
Anyhow, even when the delight in making something makes me want to hang onto it, to not cut it or otherwise risk finishing a piece is an error, at least for me. I try to think of my dad’s perspective. “I have got to be smarter than the yarn.”
The cloth made from the three cottons is pretty. I sewed together a basic vest, and absolutely don’t care for it. Not a catastrophe because it was a simple pattern, three rectangles really. So, fussing around with a smaller piece I made yet again a small pouch. Lined it with fleece fabric from some leftovers from years ago and stuck a button on it. Seems the cloth prefers that. OK then.
We have had a stretch of cold (ish) weather around here, getting below freezing. Walks are a joy.
Frozen droplets in the park.