As you all know, I am the handiest person you can possibly imagine.
Well, okay. I’m not. At all. My one real dive into woodworking achieved only the world’s most sturdy leaning bookshelf. But six layers of lacquer can do that for you.
So I had an epiphany of sorts this weekend.
My brother-in-law came over Saturday to look at our roof. Just to make sure that leaking problems we’d had last winter were merely a result of the heavy snowfall and ice dams and not a more dire structural problem. It was greatly appreciated, and almost effortless on his part, which makes those of us without that natural ability highly envious.
I mean, let’s face it: climbing about 20 feet in the air on a ladder and then actually going on to the roof isn’t really very easy…Is it? I mean, it really isn’t that easy, is it?
My machismo took a hit there.
Ah, but then, much later, things started dawning on me: I have other things that come easy to me: cooking, computers…So maybe that’s it. My brother-in-law can fix a house. I can fix…Um…A really good quiche. Or chicken. Or the lunch we had after he returned from the roof.
Why do I suddenly sound like that woman in the Enjoli ads from the ’80s?
Whoa. Flashbacks hurt.
I’ll accept my talents for now and move on.
See you tomorrow.