I had already been working for a while by the time I got around to fixing up that wood stove. I was tired and full of justifications. There was one moment in particular where I put a piece back after adjusting it and realized because of the adjustments, there was a small gap. I’d have to go get a special saw and some sawhorses in order to get it sorted, then clean all that up…or I could leave a gap in that thing that might eventually be filled with grout. I wanted to cut the corner so bad, but I decided not to. I went and got it all set up and trimmed the piece and put it back just right.

Then I realized that had forced another bit of adjustment by doing that bit of adjustment. It required the same tools and setup to do it, but still I was very ,very tempted to not do it, to just grout over it or not worry about it. But I decided to do it properly. It took a while and it was loud and dusty, but now I’ll never look at that thing in disappointment every time I go into that space.

There are other things that will inspire me to do that, but not that.

Cutting corners has always been a delicious temptation of mine ever since I began doing things with my hands. It’s dangerous and awful and slow poisonous.

It took a force of will to not cut that corner, but I’m hoping it’ll be easier next time, when I’m doing something like finishing Robinia’s room or moving my office, or fixing up the church. Stuff that’s more important. I suppose the main lesson is that it’s all important, that anything worth doing is worth doing like it matters, because it does. And if it doesn’t matter you can make it matter by pretending a bit.

I think that’s the border between this land and the territory of men.

Really caring about what you’re doing, and taking it serious.