It’s times like this that I think of the characteristics I see in other women and wish I possessed.
A “STYLE.” I don’t think that Tim Gunn would consider someone digging through piles at Goodwill and Value City…or, if it’s a really special occasion, Marshall’s, really pursuing “style.” Neither do I. Every season I think, this is it…this is the season that I get my act together and finally develop a wardrobe that adheres to some rule of fashion. As opposed to the one rule I am currently following – cheap. Well, I’ve taken a big first step: I have gone through my closets and given away 3 giant garbage bags full of clothes to Good will (a certain kind of “circle of life” don’t you think?) and now have not much more than empty hangers clanging around in my closet. So, first step done…next step means budgeting some money to refill it…and then, the critical step, not immediately repopulating the closet with crap. That’s the part where I always seem to drop the ball. POSSIBILITY OF ATTAINING: 65%THE FEMININE ARTS. I have a friend who cans. I have a sister-in-law who cans. I have a mother-in-law who cans. I don’t can. I have never canned. I think I once made freezer jam, but that was like at least a decade ago. What could be a better example of providing beautiful things for my family than lovingly canning delicious foods? I can just picture the scenario…fall leaves blowing past the window…a fire crackling in the fireplace…a pot roast in the oven…and I say, “Hey honey, would you hop downstairs to the cellar (of course it couldn’t be a basement) and grab a jar of applesauce?” I feel like I may be further from accomplishing this than the wardrobe thing. I mean, it’s a struggle for me to get the casserole (um…not even a pot roast) in the oven instead of stopping for take-out on the way home. I feel I’m doomed to failure in this and it’s best to commit it to fantasy. But, whenever I hear these women talking about their canned goods, I still dare to dream. POSSIBILITY OF ATTAINING: 1%
MANICURED NAILS. My hands are a national tragedy. Constantly either all cut up or in some state of healing, my hands are not the hands of a pampered office worker. I mean, how do I do it? It’s not like I’m a farmer…but my hands look like I am. I don’t have beautifully trimmed, shaped and polished nails. I have hangnails and unpolished nails and a frightening amount of hair that grows on my knuckles. Surely I could do better. I’m not even hoping for some kind of acrylic set up that is always perfectly polished…all I want is some decent shape and to stop biting my hang-nails. You’d think I was 12 years old. POSSIBILITY OF ATTAINING: 50%
“I MADE IT MYSELF!” Oh man…the accomplished seamstress or cook or scrapbooker or
quilter or woodworker just brings me down. I love looking through those “how to” books and in my fantasy life I can do ALL of these things. I love to receive them. Sometimes I even half-heartedly try to do these things…and sometimes I even have limited success. But, it seems like when it comes down to a competition between watching Survivor or learning to quilt, Survivor always wins. I could try to come up with all kinds of excuses…but, at the end of the day I have come to the conclusion that I may be missing the obvious…I’m just kind of lazy! Well…if wishes were changes…you know the rest. I must get more focused! It’s ridiculous! Just wait til this winter…I swear I’m busting out my knitting needles…just you wait! And, my sewing machine is still all set up downstairs just waiting for me to stitch up some pillows…or that torn apron I swore I’d fix a year ago…or, well…you know. POSSIBILITY OF ATTAINING: 75%
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