doing it wrong

Today, I was here with Fred (carpenter Fred) replacing some pulls on my kitchen drawers when they started falling apart. The fronts of the drawers were falling off. I’ve lived here for a month and not noticed that they were about to come undone. The story of this house has been so full of unexpected calamities that it’s now gotten to the point of being just humorous. Even entertaining. I’m actually getting a big smile out of each unfolding. It’s funny.

Things done wrong. Are they supposed to cheer me up? Are they supposed to make me feel better?

Years ago, when I was living in Yugoslavia with a Hungarian family, the grandmother spent time teaching me traditional Hungarian embroidery. At my first few attempts, she just laughed, they looked so inept in her eyes. My embroidery was so wrong.

I worked hard. I learned to do it right. I can DO Hungarian embroidery.

But … years later, I’m adding “stitches” to my artwork. And I’m doing it all wrong. So much more fun. It’s delightful to be so wrong.

Yeah. It can be. Cecilia has that to find out.