I am a fiddler, I confess. I mean that figuratively of course. Well also literally, I can play violin but I digress. What I meant was that I cannot seem to leave well enough alone. I have to make it a point to stop myself before I become obsessed with messing about with things. By way of example. I referenced yesterday a table decoration that my sister kindly gifted to me years ago. I warn you, while unmistakably a Christmas decoration, it is also unconventional. Here:
Yes that's right a shiny aluminum Christmas tree and two hot pink reindeer with fur collars. And I don't want to hear a word about how weird they are because I absolutely adore them both. Originally the little tree came with hot pink ornaments to match the reindeer. It was perfect just as it was. Absolutely perfect. And so very me.
Initially I set them up on the coffee table exactly as they were given to me. Well I may or may not have added some glittery fake snow for them to stand around on but that was it.
Then the next year I found a sleigh. The proportions were perfect for the reindeer to perhaps have been pulling it. AND it was sparkley. Awesome. So I added that to the vignette. But, hmmm, something seemed to be missing. Stuff in the sleigh! I couldn't find anymore hot pink Christmas balls that were the correct size but I did find some in orange, teal, silver and olive green. Awesome! They weren't all shiny round globes though. Some were stars, some matte finish and two that looked like Christmas presents. Woohoo! Even better! So those were added to the story here and there.
This year I had to mess with it a little bit more and I broke up the set. Gasp! Yes indeed, I did it. The reindeer are still pulling the sleigh filled with oddly coloured but very pretty ornaments but it is on the kitchen table. The tree is on the coffee table opposite a couple of jolly snowmen. Yeah, this is working for me. And who knows what will happen too these poor innocent decorations next?
So you see, it's like a sickness. I just cannot seem to help myself. I come by this trait honestly. My mother was the same way. She just could not stop messing with stuff.
I do not believe that she ever once in her entire life played a song the say it was written. That's right. A classically trained, Juliard schooled pianist who could not stop "improving" upon the masters. No remorse, no guilt, no shame. Mozart, Beethoven, Hayden, what did they know? She "fixed" their work all the time. In fact, come to think of it, I'm not sure she ever played any piece the same way twice. She even "fixed" her own improvements! HAHAHA! I just realized that.
A very long time ago, when we both still lived in Connecticut, my Mother started giving me a Christmas wreath each year. Live wreaths that smelled so very Christmassy and so very good! My dad would take her to the tree nursery where she would buy one that was already decorated and then she would "fix" it. She would have so many decorations on each one that you could barely see the greenery. They were glorious! No two wreaths were the same. Any time she came to visit during the Christmas Season, she would fiddle around with the wreath a little bit more. Just "fix" it a tiny bit. "It won't take a minute" she would say and add this or that or move things around.
Shortly after my first son was born, she would come to visit us occasionally for the afternoon to "help". At the time we lived in a tiny apartment that had an unnaturally large kitchen. The kitchen was the size of all of the rest of the apartment combined. It was weird, but there was loads of storage and I'll never complain about that. While she was there "helping' she would fix the items in the cabinet. Alphabetize canned goods (no joke) re-arrange the items in drawers or put things where they are "supposed" to be. It was her way of helping. I understood. I never got upset. She was simply compelled to fiddle around and "fix" things. After she left, I would giggle as I re-rearranged things back to where I originally had them.
I saw this same trait in my own children when they were small. Because I felt strongly that the Christmas tree was for all of us, I bought and made some unbreakable ornaments and that was ALL that went on the tree back then. Absolutely nothing breakable. Once the tree was decorated, they would spend hours each day re-decorating it. Nothing was more than 4 feet off the ground and sometimes all of the ornaments were on one branch. I didn't mind one bit. Because like me, like their grandmother, they just couldn't help themselves.
Where would the world be without the people who are compelled to fix things, people who aren't satisfied with the status quo? It would be boring indeed and nothing in the world would ever have moved forward or changed in anyway.
I come from a family of fiddlers and am proud of it!
Yup, this is me. Some people said, "Sam, you should write a Blog". "Well, there's a thought", I thought to myself. And so here it is.