I am woman, hear me hammer: My DIY Manifesto.

So it appears, after conversations with Ma yesterday, that I'm going to be painting the doors myself.  Truth told I'm a little intimidated by the whole spectre of removing them from their frames and getting them hanging again.  So I've been googling door painting instructions with door on and door off, and I'm hoping I've got it sorted - at least in my head.  

Success will surely follow under these conditions:

• Milo's nowhere around
• I'm not rushed [and I don't need to pee] 
• I have the right tools

I come from a family which is all at once incredibly creative, but in no way handy:  we make music and art and food.  We communicate lyrically at times.  We embrace the original, the unusual, the obscure.  And we make wonderful things out of the little or the plenty we have access to.  

However, when it comes to mending the letterbox, or changing a washer, there is something that comes over us.  A paralysis of sorts.  A heavy doubt.  A cloud of uncertainty.   And it is at these times that everything stops.  Dead.  Until mum organises a man to come and fix it.

Now I choose to stand in the face of trepidation and challenge.  As a home owner, an independent woman and a person of logic (not to mention limited resources) I believe that the successful completion of simple DIY activities cannot possibly be as ominous as my consternation would have me believe.

I am not going to be daunted by the prospect of failure.  I am going to research, mentally rehearse, create the right environment for success, jump in, be patient and persevere until the desired outcome is achieved.  And I will remember to live in the moment and enjoy the process.

This is a new age.

15 days to settlement.

Milo and the birthday present
from Jane and Gene:  seemingly benign, but
in actuality, loaded with cruel mocking.