Motivation – Tinkering

My brother watches as I tear down a plaster and lathe wallWhen I was five, my parents purchased a hundred-year-old fixer-upper.

One of the earliest photos of me shows a kid in pajamas pulling plaster off a crumbling lathe wall with a claw hammer as big as my young arm.

As I grew older and bolder, I explored our dimly lit basement, poking through one hundred years of time recorded in mildewed boxes spilling rusted bolts, screws, nails, hinges, pieces of harder-than-stone hardwood, and a thousand other treasures that I couldn't even name.

Along one wall was a big workbench made of rough-hewn planks blackened with age and use, strewn with hammers, handsaws, pliers, screwdrivers, and many other tools that were unfamiliar to me.

I was in tinker's paradise.

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