trusting my instincts (and my eyeballs)

A galvanized “happy” sign used to hang above my sink. Then Mike painted and I decided to give it a new home. I used to have a framed print above the stove that read “but first, coffee” which is still entirely my motto, but the oily steamy goodness of my cooking stained the print so I decided I needed something heartier in that spot.

A few nights after M painted, he was still at work in the evening and I worked to put some finishing touches on the room on my own.

Hanging a sign isn’t rocket science … measure the distance you require between your nails, centre that on the wall in question, mark with pencil, hammer nails, hang.

Until you flip it over to find this:

The nail holes were not centered on the backside of the sign.

I would not be a math-teacher’s wife if I didn’t know that there is some kind of math that would’ve helped me figure out how to hang this in the right spot, but I’m way too much of a writer for that.

So, I did what my instincts told me to do. Let’s be clear, my instincts also tell me not to bother to measure spices when I cook and to not use patterns when I sew.

I only needed something to show me where to put my nails, so I picked something I felt relatively confident would not stain our new paint — the kids’ toothpaste. I blobbed it on and then, in a very un-mathematical way, I did what I do best. I eyeballed it.

And you know what? It worked like a charm.

Gotta go. HGTV is calling to give me my own show.

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