|Decoy photo of no relevance to the post. Spots and Stripes workshop last month.|
In a way I wish I was left shouldered too, because then I could use a shoulder bag without resorting to strange arm gymnastics when I want to use my writing hand. The right hand. Sometimes all you want to do is check the time on your phone and it requires massive
amounts of shopping bag and handbag transference. I've started to reconsider my watch collection as positively useful rather than unworn art. Because being right handed, I wear my watch on my left wrist. Of course.
|Decoy again, you deserve it having got this far. Stripes this time.|
Then there's the stairs and the legs. I'm definitely right legged and my best foot forward is the right one. I'd like you to have a picture of me springing about, best foot forward. Ahem. If I'm doing something that requires balance, then I start with my left so that I can waggle my right leg around as I trust it it to keep me upright. The 'step' into the joinery workshop is actually a broken in half breeze block (cinder block) and I don't mind saying that every day I approach it with caution....ladies of a certain age, however young in their Apprenticeships, do not want to fall over, across, through or down a threshold. Can you imagine. It's a left foot first, balance and then both feet on the block operation. Then, when equilibrium is guaranteed, best foot forward as usual. At my desk, there's a distinct regime too. My tool caddy is at left. Once selected and used, most often the tools are discarded at right. Scrap papers are at left and the basket for 'to be cleaned' stamps and blocks is at right. Scrap papers are used (oh yes they are) and the now dirty stamps...strewn anywhere. Left until I corral them into the right hand basket. I should rearrange the desk. But I fear further confusion. It's bad enough already, right? And if you're fearing for my sanity, think on. You've read right to the end!