The Peril of DIY

I’m proud to say that I am among the many who have jumped onto the DIY bandwagon. It wasn’t a running jump, feet first, into the DIY culture. Instead, I was sucked in slowly and, as we all know, when something is done slowly (like losing weight), the results tend to be longer lasting. My parents were DIY’ers so it seems natural that their offspring would be also. Raised by two very traditional parents, my brother and I each learned different skills. Among other things, my brother learned how to change the oil in a car, replace faucets, carpentry, and the value of metric tools. I learned how to sew, crochet, and do needlework. Over the years I have made curtains and table linens, as well as clothes for my children when they were young (including two beautiful dress coats for my daughters) and clothes for myself. My husband and I moved many times when we were first married and I made curtains for many new-to-us homes. I even tackled comforters for my children’s beds. I taught myself counted cross stitch. Crocheting and cross stitch are especially agreeable crafts, as they can be done almost anywhere since they do not require a machine, ironing board, cutting table, etc. I made an entire afghan on the long drive to South Carolina when my husband and I moved there. A few years later, I made another afghan while watching the winter Olympics.

But somewhere along the line, between my return to part time work outside the home and three children all involved in extra-curricular after-school activities, it just became easier to acquire things in a finished state. Of course the problem with this is that once you find yourself with more free time, you’ve gotten pretty used to simply having things done for you. In fact, I’m not sure if I would have really begun my return trip to DIY if it hadn’t been for an illness in our family. About 8 years ago, my daughter had a serious bout with anemia. While recovering, she was cold all the time. Well, there isn’t a blanket in the world that’s as warm as a crocheted afghan. Of course, I couldn’t make one for her and not for my other children. While looking for new and different crochet patterns, I discovered a beautiful rug kit, which I promptly ordered and made. Several years later, when my son was getting married I could not find a jacket to match my dress. The dress was a beautiful shade of green and I wanted a lightweight cover-up for the ceremony and in case of cool weather. I found beautiful ribbon “yarn” and made myself a unique shrug-style jacket. But of course, it didn’t stop with needlework.

My husband gave me a Canon Rebel camera several years ago and thus rekindled an interest in photography. A few years later, this camera was replaced by its digital counterpoint and now I can’t be stopped. I already have many cross stitch pieces framed and hanging in our home. I am now adding framed photos I’ve taken. I’m also using unique photos for greeting cards that I make . . . another craft I’m getting into. Several years ago, I started rubber stamping our Christmas cards and I really enjoyed the whole process of this annual project. When my son got engaged, I decided to rubber stamp the invitations to the engagement party we hosted for him and his fiancée. A year or so ago, I decided to stop buying greeting cards and now everyone gets a stamped and/or photo greeting card for any occasion considered card-worthy. Last week, my husband asked me to pick up a sympathy card for him if I was out running errands that day. Instead I made a lovely card using a flower photo and an appropriate rubber stamp. This week, I made a card for his admin when he couldn’t find one for Administrative Professionals Day. So, I guess it’s official . . . I won’t be winning the Hallmark Fan of the Year award anytime soon. My current project is to make my daughter’s college graduation announcements. These ideas begin rationally enough. The smallest amount of announcements I can buy is 25. I need 10. So it makes sense to just make what I need. But these need to be extra-special. And perhaps I’ll try something new (envelope liners) so it’s a learning endeavor as well. And now all I need is the time to make a prototype, devise a system, allow glue to dry, etc. But it doesn’t stop there.

I started baking my own bread . . . no more store bought bread in our house! Now before I mislead anyone, I don’t knead the dough and leave it covered by a damp towel to rise. I have a bread-making machine. But before you “tsk tsk,” use of this machine still involves some finesse as well as time. After almost a year of using only “my bread” for toast and sandwiches, I started making my own pizza crusts. This involves both the bread machine and kneading the dough and results in a delicious homemade pizza. And here’s an inkling as to how DIY becomes burdensome . . . my family and I can’t order takeout pizza anymore. The homemade variety is just too good.

So now there’s really no end in sight. My interest in gardening has now led to doing all trimming of the shrubs that surround our house, starting a perennial garden, and growing my own herbs. From bread making, I have now moved on to making many varieties of soup from scratch. I have taken over all mending, hemming, and seam adjusting projects for the family. I make all cards sent from this address. Included in every gift I give is a baked, crocheted, or photographic gift. With a handmade tag to adorn it. Because . . . and here’s where the peril lies if you didn’t see it coming . . . no one does any of these things as well as I do. Because once you start Doing It Yourself, every sweater, dress, rug, herb, slice of bread, bowl of soup, cheese ball, greeting card, etc. is simply another example of something you could make better . . . if you just took the time. And once you take the time to do it yourself, there’s really no going back.

Embracing Fall

I realized not long ago that I would not lament the passing of summer this year. When this thought occurred to me, I stopped short. This statement is more monumental than it seems at first glance. Summer is my absolute favorite time of the year. I wait 10 long months for summer. I wait through bone-chilling cold. Wind of monumental proportions. Sideways rain. Days when our outside lights, which are controlled by a timer that “senses” nighttime, are on at 10:00 a.m. Days when the sky is so gray it seems impossible for it to be any bleaker, only to be followed by days when you realize you were wrong. It can get bleaker. Through all of this I wait and dream of the summer. The warmth of the sun on my body. Eating our meals outside on our deck, and in the evening, watching the birds wait in line to splash in the birdbath. Lighting the chimnea, needing the smoke from the fire to keep away the bugs. I look forward to watering my flowers and refilling the birdbath – it’s therapeutic and relaxing. Best of all, in the summer, I keep the windows open as long as I can, putting off the time when we inevitably have to shut the windows and put on the A/C. Once the A/C is on, all is quiet. But with the windows open, we are treated to the cacophony of frogs, crickets, cicadas, and other wildlife inhabiting the woods and wetlands nearby. These critters sleep all day in order to stay up at night bickering with one another. These are just the things I enjoy about summer which occur in my own backyard. I haven’t even mentioned day trips to the beach, numerous outdoor concerts at local parks, trips to the farmer’s market for Jersey tomatoes and corn, or the sheer bliss of deciding to go somewhere and standing up and leaving. No search for warmer socks, heavier shoes, a scarf, thicker gloves or a hat.

But summer didn’t arrive this year. It rained the entire month of June, except for 2 non-consecutive days. In July things began drying out, but not with any real speed. Standing outside watching fireworks on July 4^th, it was necessary to wear a sweatshirt and, earlier in the evening, when enjoying the music at the park, no sunglasses were needed. The gradual warm-up did postpone the need for A/C; however, sitting outside became unbearable. Mutant mosquitoes, the result of 28 days of rain the previous month, walked right up alongside us and took huge chunks out of our legs and arms. Sitting outside near the lit chimnea, tiki torches and citronella candles made our eyes water but did nothing to deter the bugs. Tired of swatting to no avail, we surrendered and came inside. Not once did we get up early in the morning in order to walk or get to and from the farmer’s market before the heat was unbearable. The underground sprinkler ran 3 times, not because the lawn needed watering but because we had neglected to turn it off. In August, I began spring clean up – the annual weeding and trimming of shrubs necessary to keep the landscaping from becoming overgrown. Since we did not enjoy one week without rain until the end of August, yard work was a sporadic venture. On the days when I could go outside in the morning to weed and trim, I also had to wage battle with the mosquitoes that were so plentiful by now that they could not confine their blood sucking to only the evening hours.

The news reported that the month of July had come and gone, and in New York – the entire state, not just the city – there had not been one day when the thermometer cracked 90. But in August, the temperature finally began rising and complaining about the heat became the universal topic. Everywhere I went, I heard complaints about the heat and I wondered from where these people had just arrived. From Seattle? From Canada? Had they somehow missed the weather of the previous two months? It was technically summer and summer is supposed to be hot. And yet the temperature barely reached 90. My annuals grew leggy, straining to keep their blooms above water. The blooms were half-hearted as the plants were using their energy to.search for sun. Often the days were overcast, with the sun finally breaking through around 6:00 p.m., just in time to begin setting.

I guess this is global climate change, or Mother Nature on some sort of power trip. Either way, I do not like it. For a long time now we haven’t had a spring season. Winter B has replaced it. Now we have lost summer due to global “warming.” Autumn A has replaced it. I enjoy four different seasons not the current pattern of Winter A, Winter B, Autumn A, and Autumn B. I missed Spring for many years before I finally gave up and conceded that it was really gone and not coming back. I am not ready to admit that Summer is meeting a similar fate. I hope the past few months were simply an asterisk that will appear in record books in the future. But after witnessing the death of Spring, I am skeptical. Regardless, I am going to do my best to enjoy fall . . . before the arctic blast of winter is upon us.