"I don't do anything fancy."

When my husband takes on one of my hair brained ideas and decides to make something for the house - something out of wood - he does the very best he can do. 

There are certain things he does very well and certain thing he ... well ... doesn't.  Building a level, straight end table with a drawer is one of those things.

"I don't do anything fancy," he said.

Meanwhile I kept piling little "extras" on to the project.  Things like a shelf and a "half shelf," a flush-fitting drawer, tapered legs, and a fancy, routed edge.

While he did all the things I asked for, I wasn't able to accept his mantra, "I don't do anything fancy."

Well, the end table came out ... interesting.  Not at all what I expected.  It works extremely well as an end table.  It has 2 full shelves and a drawer (not flush-fitting).  The legs are straight.  It is a beautiful table, and it graces the side of my rocker quite nicely.  Even though it isn't at all what I pictured when I spewed my detailed instructions to a man who said over and over, "I don't do anything fancy."

He did his very best work.  And I love him. And I need to learn to accept that when he conveys his limitations over and over and over.  He means it.

Learning to Laugh

I used to get mad at Lew for doing silly things that embarrassed me. Like when he wore "that t-shirt" to church, or when he and the girls walked around the block wearing makeshift wedding veils.

Any more I just chalk it up to his personality and the way he goes about his life.  I knew he was a bit of a loon when I agreed to marry him, so why should I be embarrassed when I see him playing out his lifestyle in front of me (and the entire neighborhood)?

Anyway, I've learned to be thankful for the silly boy who won my heart, and I try not to take these embarrassing moments personally.