Monday, January 11, 2010
Saturday I bought a work bench for my garage. Tonight, on the way home, I bought a new tool box (pictured above).
I am not a handyman, though I have visions of artistic creativity that involve sundry tools. I was never a mechanic. But there is something primal going on here, and irrational, and I am happy to own that. My father and grandfather were craftsmen. My dad built houses and mountain cabins, worked on cars, repaired radios and television sets, etc.
So am I going to be doing home repairs? *snort* Hardly. But the tools now scattered about the house and garage will soon be able to assemble in one place. There will be something comforting about that. When I am looking for something it will be far more likely to be found. It is akin to eating comfort food.
+Clumber would probably have something clever to say about the odd behaviors of bipeds. Point well taken in advance, old dog.