I am well aware that I have a "type," and what that type entails. As I summed it up to one boyfriend: "I like strong flavors." Easygoing yet strong-willed, a motley collection of skills and interests, someone equally happy to host a dinner party as to hike all day in the snow and snack on cheese.
And so it was with a sense of familiarity that I watched my partner pick up a reciprocating saw and blithely attempt to carve a hole in the wall. More specifically, this time it was the chimney, which we discovered has a layer of brick-like material behind the drywall. Only momentarily daunted, Jean-François then procured a circular saw, stood on the dinner table for better leverage, and proceeded to plume-cloud the combination living-room-dining-room-kitchen with fine, chalk-like red dust -- basically a gritty pollen bomb, with some chunks of plaster here and there.
A lot of people talk about doing stuff, or dream about things that they convince themselves are beyond reach. And some of us ( 👀 ) compulsively debate pros and cons and get mired in the complexity of options. I am fascinated (and perplexed) by people who can both humbly admit their inexperience and forge on ahead with...whatever.
But I also bring valuable things to the table. Like insisting the electricity is shut off when messing with wiring; the savvy to remove industrial goo with lavish amounts of paint thinner; and knowing when to take off my glasses so details blend together, a little fuzzy like an Impressionist painting, the visual obliquity heightening sensibility.
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