Stamping Ground

So now we have 135 meringues safely nestled in 4 draws from a unit I used to have in my workroom -- they take up a ridiculous amount of space! My lovelies are in fear of moving them or worse, trying to stack something on the precarious cling film lids I've made...when I say 'in fear'; I mean of me. They will seriously be amazed by my dramatic reaction and devastation if even so much as one of these blighters is crushed! Oh the draaaama! Am very much looking forward to plonking on a large spoonful of fresh berries and a dollop of cream, I must say!

I've been in the kitchen again today, making some cute duck shaped biscuits to go in the easter baskets...and of course, using up egg yolks. But while I was being Suzy Homemaker, Mr Dunnit was, well, doing it. He'd set himself the task of gluing down the new 'lino' for the hall floor. Of course, when I say hall, I mean the small space through the front door that gives access to the rest of the house and the stairs. We aren't talking vestibule, grand entrance or sweeping staircase here. Aside from the fact that it's our home, there is nothing large or remarkable about our home - it's an average size and blah. This is not to take any achievement or glory from Mr Dunnit for his DIY skills; he's really amazingly good at it. But, like crafting, this DIY thing is phsycologically revealing. He runs all the time from hither to yon - in this case from front door to van to garage. This I assume, because he is keen. I don't run across my craft room, but in the early stages I do eschew the stool until I've settled to a point where everything I need is gathered within arm's reach (!). When spreading the adhesive, he sticks his tongue out and frowns; in concentration, for sure. When I need to concentrate, I turn down the music, put my glasses on and frown. I suspect that I don't stick my tongue out because dribbling is a big fear of mine (some other post, perhaps...). Struggling with the lino (pre-measured, cut, measured again, edges 'shaved' to fit and measured again), he uttered a rather pointless wish that it would fit. I usually offer some small threat to the object or image I'm working on. Then he committed himself and stuck it down. And I stick it down. When an air bubble appeared near one of the thresholds, he swore questions at it about why it wouldn't behave. As soon as I realise it's not straight, I swear. But not at it, at myself. Now, I don't believe he expected the inanimate objects to reply, but it was nonetheless entertaining for me. Then, possibly because it didn't answer, and he was angry, he jumped up and down on it. Really. I've never done this..but I have been known to fling the offending card or paper if I'm really struggling with it! It was not appropriate for him to see me laughing, so I hid behind the kitchen door. It worked though...there's no air bubble now and the floor is looking good, and flat. Usually I can recover something..after all some of our best creations are born from mistakes, huh!

There has to be a method - the method becomes the routine that makes getting stuff done a little easier..no matter if you end up jumping up and down on air bubbles or spend 5 minutes finding your glasses; it's almost a settling thing, that allows you to free your mind of other stuff so that you stop the white noise of other jobs interfering and adjust your focus - for as long as it takes. Ah, back to routine again. My saving, recurring routine!