Sunday, November 26, 2017

No Method, No Problem

After trying to figure out my system for putting price tags on pieces we're selling at the market, Katie finally gives up. "I have no idea how your mind works," she says as she goes off to finish another part of the project.

As I happily work through the rest of the tags, I realize part of the problem is that I don't really have a system, as much as I just do whatever happens to be in front of me at the moment, which, while it creates confusion for others, makes perfect sense to me.

I remember my sister's abject frustration whenever I would set the table: I'd put down a fork at this place, then a spoon, then a fork at the next place, then a knife at the previous place, and so on, until everything was done, and how after a while she simply refused to watch me set the table anymore, because the way I did it was so injurious to her calm.
One year ago: Welcome Home
Two years ago: Strained
Three years ago: My Family
Four years ago: The Elusive Glasses Are Somehow My Fault
Seven years ago: Everyone

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