I have friends who've gotten married and moved to the 'burbs. Which, in my personal opinion, means that they've moved to anywhere past Magallanes. In the map, where they live, it would say, Here there be tollgates. But it's a nice place, the one they've got. A late century bungalow with a huge empty lot adjacent to it that also belongs them. Before they planted... crops in that empty lot, it was the scene of a fictional body dumping that the wife told to the husband over SMS to freak him out. You know, for kicks. Fun couple, these two.
Anyway, they've been nesting, doing a bit of organizing, changing the layout of their living room. I want to be in that stage in my life too. Where I have my own largeish space that I can fix up or organize. Actually, better yet, I want to literally build my own house. Well, maybe not literally. I mean, how does one mix and pour cement. But I want to be very involved in building my house.
I was thinking about that while sitting in Starbucks, reading a book (Cryptonomicon, still), waiting for my lunch companion to make it. I was thinking if I could actually learn woodworking, build my own crossbeams and pillars out of good wood, to make a nice, high ceiling. And I said to myself that, yes, yes I can!
Only to realize quickly that patience and precision aren't my strong suits, and I'd probably go nuts trying to cut lumber into equal pieces, and sanding them all. I think my experience with building scale models as a kid should serve as a reminder. I didn't apply glue in the right amounts, and I didn't want to wait for the paint to dry to apply the second coat. From opening the box to holding a 1:24 Nissan NSX in my hands, I wanted to spend only an hour making it, tops.
It was only natural that I always ended up with motley painted cars with doors that wouldn't open, planes with wings that fell off, and WWII battleships already in post-Pearl Harbor state. So I'm really reconsidering literally building my own house, but I still want to be at that stage in my life.
Anyway, they've been nesting, doing a bit of organizing, changing the layout of their living room. I want to be in that stage in my life too. Where I have my own largeish space that I can fix up or organize. Actually, better yet, I want to literally build my own house. Well, maybe not literally. I mean, how does one mix and pour cement. But I want to be very involved in building my house.
I was thinking about that while sitting in Starbucks, reading a book (Cryptonomicon, still), waiting for my lunch companion to make it. I was thinking if I could actually learn woodworking, build my own crossbeams and pillars out of good wood, to make a nice, high ceiling. And I said to myself that, yes, yes I can!
Only to realize quickly that patience and precision aren't my strong suits, and I'd probably go nuts trying to cut lumber into equal pieces, and sanding them all. I think my experience with building scale models as a kid should serve as a reminder. I didn't apply glue in the right amounts, and I didn't want to wait for the paint to dry to apply the second coat. From opening the box to holding a 1:24 Nissan NSX in my hands, I wanted to spend only an hour making it, tops.
It was only natural that I always ended up with motley painted cars with doors that wouldn't open, planes with wings that fell off, and WWII battleships already in post-Pearl Harbor state. So I'm really reconsidering literally building my own house, but I still want to be at that stage in my life.
No comments:
Post a Comment