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I can see clearly now.

This is something I do. I think I can do things based on what makes sense logically. Without having any actual knowledge about how to do said thing. Most times, this is NOT bragging as my failures have been spectacular, it works out. Our upstairs bathroom has new fixtures. Our coat closet door became a magnetic chalkboard before it was cool. Or easy. Read: the magnetic paint came from China and I probably should have been wearing a mask.

I could probably Google this ish. I should probably Google it. But I just have tremendous faith that watching my dad do stuff growing up and my own brain has cobbled together enough knowledge to tackle projects. Except electrical stuff. That is still eighty-seven youtube videos and a licensed electrician away. I will NOT electrocute myself.

Anyway, one of the windows in our master bedroom had a big crack in it. Since basically the day we moved in. Would be cool to have a picture of that wouldn't it? Yes, it would. I do not. You'll have to trust me. But it did and if windows from 1948 were not rattle-y enough, adding a giant crack doesn't help. Last winter, the glass broke. Just the bottom corner. So the intrepid homeowner that I am, I sealed that stuff right up with saran and a blow dryer. Bandaid, done.

Then there was a bee. There was a bee that got into the house in the dead of winter. It got stuck between the blinds and the plastic. If you don't know me, it is important to be aware that I grew up allergic to bees. Like, carry an epi-pen, gonna die if I get stung, please don't swat and make the bee angry - allergic to bees. Like even now that I have been stung and didn't go into anaphylaxis, if there are many bees around? I will literally leave my children to fend for themselves and get myself to safety. Listen, I am not proud of it but years of flight or stand-still-like-a-statue-so-you-won't-get-stung are hard to break.

Anyway, back to 2018 and the bee. I was alone with three kids. I must be brave. Pro-active. I must protect my littles. And I did. I killed that darn bee. I smacked the blind enough times to scare away the rescue squad. I also smacked the blind enough to really break the window. Beyond repair. Worth it. Also, is that my white whicker furniture from my childhood bedroom? It is. Cry for me.

A few days later, while chatting with a handy friend I said - panes of glass are expensive. I am just going to go to Home Depot, have them cut a piece of acrylic, remove the broken glass, clean the channel, install the acrylic and caulk it. His response - that is the sexiest thing I have ever heard. ?? I don't know if that's true. I also had no idea if my idea would work. But it seemed just logical enough...

To work. And it did. Like an emmer effing boss. The window is fixed, clean, secure and rattle-free. Did I do a celebratory dance? Maybe. Was I proud, impressed and a little surprised it worked? Yep. Did I feel like a total boss? Oh, hell yes. We moved into this house in 2008. I fixed the window, yes, after breaking it more, in 2018. Need a meal cooked? Move along. Need a window "fixed"? Holla at ya girl!

Honestly? I am still ridiculously proud of this. Low bar = many victories!

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