Hubby is one of THOSE people.
He measures everything.
I eyeball it.
His way is right.
My way is right.
He gets HIVES when he sees a new, gasp in horror, nail hole.
I figure that the offending hole will soon be covered by my project!
He came home one day to discover my newest domestic endeavor.
A a faux antiqued mirror to go over the mantle.
Nailed to the wall.
Eyeball measured.
He might near fainted.
It looked good to me.
It just could NOT be perfectly centered. He was sure.
He measured.
It was 1/16th of an inch off.
He grimaced, in actual mental distress.
Then told me with firm conviction...
"You are going to have to LIVE with this"and walked off,
He was right. I am happy.
Imperfection, imitations.
These are good enough for my house,
but not my heart.
May I always be able to know the difference between
what is real
what is just for show.
May I always remember that some things
done imperfectly
I will have to live with
forever.
1 comment:
Ah Rachel...
You are so right! Again, you've provided us with a good grin and inserted some thought fodder - food for a long and profitable meditation, particularly if we heed the underlying admonition. There's a special knack to softening the edge with a little humor and you are the wordsmith's equivalent of a cordon bleu chef when it comes to "the write word."
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