Build a house.
Yeah, you heard me right. Sweat, swear and struggle through months of labor and hard decisions. Like me, you might find that the differences are actually a good thing.
My frustrations seemed to have taken an all time high since we've started construction. I've had to bite my tongue, roll my eyes and dig deep inside myself for some hard core "spunk". Bad words and alligator tears were never part if my personality before. And now they are everyday occurrences.
You see, my husband is a perfectionist. A mathematical wizard and de-puzzler of all universal puzzles and stupid measurements. A 16th of an inch difference is too great. A quarter inch, a sin.
As for me, fudge a little and nail the darn thing together! Caulk it, glue it, stick it together and call it done, for heavens sake!
But, you know, the whole left brain, right brain became so clear to me yesterday...
When I do what I love, which is painting or writing, I am easily distracted. And that doesn't bother me.
If I'm in the middle of a project and I see a pretty bird outside, I get up and investigate. I watch it. Photograph it. Maybe even feed it.
I take time for long coffee breaks, I Pinterest, I stretch out for a nap if the feeling hits me. I'm laid back. Comfy. Never conforming to deadlines.
My husband gets on a roll and never slows down. He's a virtual snow ball who gains speed and turns into a nail gun, tape measuring, leveling inferno on wheels! He loses sleep over decisions, he goes without meals... he ignores those pretty birds out the window.
Yet, I've come to realize it's good thing.
If I was in charge, we would still be carving our initials in the concrete and making handprints on the wet cement. We would still be lying on our backs on the rooftop watching deer or counting stars. We would drinking wine and dreaming. We would stop and play with the dogs, take pictures of wild flowers, and wonder why on earth that one wall was shorter than the other!
So, it's best to look at the whole picture sometimes. Now I see why he is such a good part of this marriage: He is everything I am not. And I am everything he is not. Together we make everything alright.
One thing about it, once his puzzle is complete and his vision is reality, he will take time to watch the birds with me...to swing on the porch, to take a long walk in the autumn leaves...and finally, willingly and happily relax.
Oh, look! See that bluebird? Gotta go!
